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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27295213">His Howling Heart</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/StrangeHarbor/pseuds/StrangeHarbor'>StrangeHarbor</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Angst, Gore, M/M, Non-Linear Narrative, Possessive Behavior, Tom Riddle is His Own Warning</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 18:29:11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>20,808</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27295213</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/StrangeHarbor/pseuds/StrangeHarbor</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry doesn’t remember how he ended up in the forest, only that he can’t leave. All he has is the friendship between him and a boy who’s obsessed with both him and the magic they can wield. </p>
<p>The forest will never give up Harry Potter, and neither will Tom Riddle even if it means damning them all.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Harry Potter/Tom Riddle | Voldemort</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>103</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. The devil and his boy</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>“Can we love nature for what it really is: predatory?”</p><p>— Richard Siken, “Landscape with Fruit Rot and Millipede</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There was a rabbit, a boy and a monster.</p>
<p>Do not decide which is which yet.</p><hr/>
<p>Someone was in his forest. Harry loped through the trees in pursuit. Someone was in his forest and they reeked of hunger and blood. A dangerous smell. Harry snarled. He slipped through his shapes as he tracked down the intruder. One moment, he strode as a stag. Another and a raven flitted in the shadows. When he stood before the boy, he stood as a thing betwixt.</p>
<p>A monster with a crown of horns, clawed fingers and brilliant green eyes looked down upon its prey.</p>
<p>The boy hadn't noticed him yet. He couldn't have been more than five or six. Yet he knelt in the dirt of the forbidden forest, blissfully unaware. The boy dug a small hole with a garden trowel. Sweat poured down his face, his clothes covered in dirt and blood.</p>
<p>Next to the boy lay a rabbit. Glassy black eyes stared up at Harry. Gore matted its fur.</p>
<p>An odd sense of unease crawled up Harry's spine. Not quite fear, for why should he fear this boy? No, Harry felt like he had forgotten something quite important. The scene was eerily familiar.</p>
<p>The wind rustled around him, and Harry knew it to be the forest laughing at him. He narrowed his eyes. Then the boy looked up and caught sight of him.</p>
<p>He did not scream. The trowel fell from his hands. Lips quivered. The small body trembled before becoming still. Harry could hear the boy's heart beat a rapid fire rhythm against his ribs. The boy didn't move as Harry took another step forward. Fierce dark eyes tracked the movement before meeting his own.</p>
<p>He had been a boy once, Harry thought. A long time ago, or maybe not that long at all. Time was a thing that stretched, swirled, and ultimately forsook him.</p>
<p>So how much time passed as the two watched each other, Harry didn't know. Seconds, years, hours, aeons: it didn't matter. But then the boy rose to his feet with a deliberate sort of determination. Slowly, as if not to spook him, the boy reached down and grabbed the rabbit. It dangled there by the ears. Blood dripped down to earth below.</p>
<p>The boy raised the rabbit towards him. <em>Here.</em> An unmistakable gesture.</p>
<p>"Why?" Harry asked.</p>
<p>The boy couldn't quite hide his terror one word caused him. He tried to blank his expression before settling on a sneer and shaking the rabbit forwards again.</p>
<p>"A life for a life." said the boy.</p>
<p>"Your life is worth more than a rabbit."</p>
<p>Again, the fear and yet something tugged upward on the boy's lips. A tremulous smile emerged. "I know."</p>
<p>Harry took the rabbit from him. Knife wounds riddled the broken thing. Probably from the knife tucked into the boy's boot that his hand kept straying towards.</p>
<p>"Why kill it?"</p>
<p>The boy kept smiling. A shadow passed over his features. "Because I wanted to. Because I can."</p>
<p>Emboldened he continued. "It was <em>weak. </em>Nothing special about it at all. Billy wouldn't shut up about it. Now look at it."</p>
<p>The boy puffed himself up and all Harry could see was a cat trying to seem bigger and badder than it was. The rabbit twirled lazily in his hand. One slit across the throat would have sufficed.</p>
<p>"Why did you kill it?" Harry asked, accentuating the question with a step forward. It jostled the rabbit and red splattered across the boy's face. The smile dropped.</p>
<p>The words exploded in a roar. "Because I wanted to hurt him! He hurt me, so I hurt him! He cared so much about it and I took it from him and he'll never ever get it back."</p>
<p>The boy wiped his hand across his face, smearing the blood. "You're the Devil. You understand. An eye for an eye. You'd do worse. I bet you could make him scream."</p>
<p>And the boy looked positively enthralled by the idea.</p>
<p>The boy smelled like hunger and blood. He smelled like the fangs tearing flesh, like a snake in the grass, and like a ravenous ache so great and terrible it threatened to swallow everything whole. The boy smelled like someone unbearably alone in an unkind world.</p>
<p>He had been a boy once, Harry thought again. He couldn't remember exactly what kind of boy he'd been, but perhaps once upon a time the two had been alike. Doubtful, but perhaps. The back of his mind twinged, but brought no memories forth.</p>
<p>Decided, Harry raised his free hand. Slowly he reached out and touched the boy's face. The boy flinched but didn't stray away. Harry rubbed away the crimson still clinging to the skin. Clawed fingers rested on the boy's cheek. So soft and fragile. A young thing, a kitten really. Harry smiled.</p>
<p>The boy made a soft noise. His mouth remained slightly parted, eyes wide. A small hand shot up and covered Harry's. A different kind of red filled his cheeks. Harry laughed under his breath.</p>
<p>"You-"</p>
<p>"Come." Harry said. He dropped his hand. He turned and walked into the dark depths of the forest.</p>
<p>The boy followed him.</p><hr/>
<p>An ancient yew loomed above the pair and Harry could hear the forest whispering. He ignored it in favor of sitting on a fallen log. The boy scrambled up beside him. He kept his distance but leaned towards Harry despite his wariness.</p>
<p>"Are you taking me to Hell?"</p>
<p>"No." Harry frowned. "I'm not the devil."</p>
<p>The boy rolled his eyes at him. "I don't care if you're the Devil. I get called that enough anyway."</p>
<p>He kicked his feet restlessly. "Priest Wright says there's a demon in me and no amount of holy water is gonna get rid of it."</p>
<p>"You're just different." Harry offered.</p>
<p>The boy gave him an unimpressed look. "They all say that too."</p>
<p>"Like the one who's rabbit you killed?" The rabbit that Harry still gripped in his left hand. Idly he brought up the haunch to his face and took a bite. Not his favorite, but it wasn't terrible. His teeth crunched open the bone and delicious marrow flowed into his mouth. Harry slurped it up with a grin. The boy covered his mouth with a hand, his face going green.</p>
<p>"Hungry?" Harry asked. The boy shook his head. "Liar."</p>
<p>Harry snapped his fingers and at their feet a small fire blazed to life. He hung the remainder of the rabbit over the open flame.</p>
<p>"I think you're always hungry." Harry said. "What you were going to do was wasteful. Why bother burying something if you can eat it?"</p>
<p>The boy stared into the fire. Orange light danced on his pale face. Then he said "I wanted Billy to find it.</p>
<p>"Not right away, but I was gonna tell him I saw it run in here. He's stupid so he'd probably keep looking for it until he managed to dig it up."</p>
<p>The boy trailed off. He opened and closed his mouth a few times but came up with no words. He clenched his small hands into fists. He hunched forward and drew into himself. The flames crackled. Harry waited.</p>
<p>The boy finally said, "They say that people who come into this forest disappear. That the forest takes them and won't ever give them back."</p>
<p>Then in a voice so small and angry he whispered, "It wasn't supposed to be <em>me</em>."</p>
<p>His shoulders hitched. A low keen dragged its way past his lips. The dam burst wide open.</p>
<p>"So what do you want from me?" the boy shouted. "Are you going to eat me? Is that it? It's all funny to you isn't it? But-"</p>
<p>He took a breath. The fury faded from his features. He held out upturned palm to Harry, a devious smile forming.</p>
<p>"But I could give you someone else. Anyone else you like, Devil. If you want something, I'll steal it. If you want someone, I'll trick them into coming here. Anything you want-"</p>
<p>"No."</p>
<p>The boy faltered. His hand fell. The knife gleamed in his boot. The boy was about to run, and if he ran Harry would be forced to catch him. He didn't fancy getting stabbed. He sighed.</p>
<p>"I'm not the devil." Harry repeated. "I don't want to eat you, kill you, or drag you to hell. I'm going to give you this rabbit to eat and then I will take you home."</p>
<p>He placed the rabbit in the space between them. The boy frowned and Harry could see the inner gears of his head turning. "Please." Harry added.</p>
<p>The boy warred with himself for another moment before he relaxed. He poked the rabbit and wrinkled his nose.</p>
<p>"I don't wanna eat that. You didn't skin it, and it's burnt, and it's gross looking- Don't laugh at me!"</p>
<p>"I wasn't laughing."</p>
<p>"You were." Harry laughed louder. "Stop that!"</p>
<p>"You're awfully picky for such a small thing."</p>
<p>The boy bristled. "I'm not picky, you don't understand what humans eat."</p>
<p>Harry tilted his head. "I know people eat-"</p>
<p>"Not like this." The boy said. "Maybe it's alright for you, but not for me."</p>
<p>"But you haven't even tried it." He pushed it toward the boy. "Maybe you'll like it. I bet you'll love it."</p>
<p>The boy pushed it back. "If it's so good then you should finish it."</p>
<p>"Just one bite?"</p>
<p>The boy scowled. Harry bit back another laugh. He couldn't remember the last time he'd laughed or felt so bright and warm.</p>
<p>"Fine. One bite."</p>
<p>The boy teased out a small strip of meat. He eyed it with disgust before shoving it in his mouth. Then without meaning to, he licked his lips.</p>
<p>"See?"</p>
<p>"It wasn't terrible." The boy grumbled. He could stand to eat a bit more, Harry thought and knew that the boy wouldn't. Definitely a cat, all pride and prickliness. A brief memory surfaced. Harry the boy chased a cat into the garden, running right into the long legs of-</p>
<p>Ah, it was gone.</p>
<p>"If you're not the devil," The boy asked, "then what are you?"</p>
<p>Harry shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe I'm a monster, maybe I'm the king of the forest. People call me all sorts of things, but that doesn't make them true." He took in a breath and blew it out slow. "Maybe I'm like you. Different."</p>
<p>The boy inched closer to him. "Do you really think so?"</p>
<p>"Well we could be unlucky." It seemed a lot closer to the truth to be honest.</p>
<p>"You made the fire. Does that mean you can do other things?" The boy hesitated. "I can do things too. Strange things."</p>
<p>Strange things for a strange boy. "What can you do?"</p>
<p>"I can make things move without touching them. I can make bad things happen to people who are mean to me. I can make them hurt." His fingers dug into his shorts. "The other orphans can't do that. That's why I'm different. They call me that. They call me crazy. I-"</p>
<p>The boy swallowed. He pressed a hand to Harry's forearm. A light touch.</p>
<p>"I'm not crazy. You're real and I'm not crazy."</p>
<p>"I'm real and you're not crazy." said Harry. He smiled at the boy and was rewarded with another flush of red.</p>
<p>"And if I'm different...like you...does that mean I'm not human either?" Something burned in those dark eyes. Harry's skin prickled and the forest sighed in a gust of wind that blew out their fire leaving the two alone in the dark. The hand on his arm tightened its grip. <em>Don't forget, </em>the forest whispered, <em>Blood and hunger. Hunger and blood.</em></p>
<p>"You're human." Harry said. "And it's time I took you home."</p>
<p>The boy remained quiet, irritation palpable. He looked oddly disappointed. The boy took his hand away.</p>
<p>"Fine." he said.</p><hr/>
<p>Harry brought him to the edge of the forest. The moon shone down on them and Harry felt a bit guilty for keeping the boy out so late. It had been so long since he had talked to someone. The boy was so easy to tease and he had so many questions. Harry wanted-</p>
<p>He shook his head, clearing out his thoughts.</p>
<p>Suddenly the boy reached for his hand again. Harry peered down at him.</p>
<p>"What is it?"</p>
<p>"I want to see you again." the boy said. "If I come back tomorrow, will you be here?"</p>
<p>Harry hadn't ever met the same person twice in his forest. No one had ever wanted to meet him twice. His chest hurt.</p>
<p>"I can't- it doesn't really work like that."</p>
<p>"Then the day after. Or even after that." the boy insisted.</p>
<p>Harry ran a hand through his hair, biting at his lip. "Time isn't the same here. I don't know how to explain it. My tomorrow might not be your tomorrow."</p>
<p>Of course, the boy didn't like that one bit. "Then I'm not going anywhere. I'll follow you right back in."</p>
<p>"You can't." Harry said. "It's not safe. You don't belong here."</p>
<p>"I don't belong there either." The boy snapped.</p>
<p>Harry closed his eyes. The forest sang, <em>Never let you go.</em> He knew. It never let him forget. He had been a boy once. He should vanish. The boy would be safer that way. The boy might get lost, but Harry could guide him back and keep him out of trouble from out of sight.</p>
<p>But something told him it wouldn't be that easy and besides that, well- Harry just didn't want to.</p>
<p>He opened his eyes and knelt down so that he was face to face with the boy.</p>
<p>"Ok. Here's what we'll do. I'll wait here until I see you. You can come see if I'm here as often as you like. Eventually our paths will cross again. It might be a while but if you don't give up then this will work."</p>
<p>The boy furrowed his brows. "I don't understand why you can't be here tomorrow."</p>
<p>"Maybe I will be. I can't promise that I will be. All I can do is wait."</p>
<p>The brows scrunched in tighter. "Then I'll come every day...and you'll wait until you see me again. Promise that you'll wait. Swear it."</p>
<p>What else could Harry do? </p>
<p>"I'll wait for you. I promise."</p>
<p>A smile escaped from the boy's lips before he could stop it. Small and a bit fragile like its owner.</p>
<p>"Good."</p>
<p>One problem solved. Yet another rose.</p>
<p>"What should I call you then?" Harry asked.</p>
<p>"My name is-"</p>
<p>In an instant, Harry silenced him with a hand over his mouth. The boy scowled at him with equal parts annoyance and confusion.</p>
<p>"Names have power here. Someone could control you. You shouldn't give it away lightly. Understand?" The boy nodded and Harry released him.</p>
<p>"Then I have to come up with something different?" He changed his tracks. "What am I supposed to call you?"</p>
<p>
  <em>Don't. Don't. Don't. Don't.</em>
</p>
<p>But there was nothing left for Harry to lose, or so he thought.</p>
<p>"Harry."</p>
<p>"Really? Is that it?"</p>
<p>"That's all there is."</p>
<p>"Harry." He said, trying it out. "<em>Harry."</em></p>
<p>He shook his head. The boy eyed him critically and frowned. "It doesn't suit you at all. It's common and plain and you're-" The boy paused. "You're more."</p>
<p><em>More what?</em> Harry wanted to ask, but he settled for saying. "Then I should call you Rabbit."</p>
<p>"What, no!" Instantly affronted, the boy shot him a glare.</p>
<p>"It doesn't suit you at all either." Harry said. "Plus it'll remind me of how we met."</p>
<p>"I hate it."</p>
<p>Harry laughed. "I've alway been terrible at naming things. Come up with something better for next time."</p>
<p>The boy turned from him, stomping off. "I will! You will never call me Rabbit again. It'll be a good name, better than Harry. Better than-" He growled and cut himself off. "You better be here tomorrow!"</p>
<p>"Goodbye Rabbit." Harry called out. The boy ignored him, and left the forest. Harry watched him disappear into the town that he must live in. A town Harry might have lived in. He took a step forward. Pain lanced through his chest. A cough wracked his body, flower petals fluttering from his lips. Vines encircled his heart and tightened.</p>
<p>
  <em>Never let you go.</em>
</p>
<p>Harry tumbled backwards into the soft grass. He wrapped his arms around himself but it did nothing to stop the burning ache. He coughed weakly into his hand. A red spider lily bloomed between his fingers amongst his own blood, the crimson blending together so they were almost indistinguishable. Harry blinked back tears.</p>
<p>He was never getting out of here.</p>
<p>How long had it been? Harry couldn't remember anything. Why him? The boy- Rabbit's words rang in his ears. '<em>It wasn't supposed to be me.' </em>Because it had been Harry. Always had been. Funny how always and never both implied forever. The forest would never let him go, Harry would always be here. Forever. How long was forever supposed to be anyway? What did forever mean when time ceased to move in a straight line?</p>
<p>He groaned and pulled himself up. Harry blinked a couple times before something caught his attention. On one of the trees in front of him someone had written something. It hadn't been there moments ago and it hadn't ever been there before. He got closer to examine it. He traced the carved ridges with confusion. There engraved deep in the wood lay four words.</p>
<p>'<em>I am Lord Voldemort.'</em></p><hr/>
<p>Tom Riddle trudged back to the orphanage. His clothes were ripped, rumpled and revolting. Dirt covered him head to toe. There was blood beneath his fingernails and a bit of meat stuck between two teeth that he tried to tease out with his tongue. His skin itched. His hands trembled. Thoughts whirred in his brain, turning on themselves and into others. Dapples of moonlight fell onto his pale skin and Tom wondered if maybe he left a bit of himself back in that forest with the devil.</p>
<p><em>Harry</em>, he corrected himself. With Harry.</p>
<p>Tom turned back to look, just once of course. Nothing but darkness remained at the tree line. He wanted to run away and never go back in there. He wanted to charge right in and demand Harry show him everything. His stupid heart kept pounding too fast like an erratic drum. He drowned in the sound, reverberations shaking down all through his body. A prickling sensation like tiny bolts of electricity ran down his arms. His feet refused to move. Louder and louder, it beat.</p>
<p>
  <em>Thump-thump-thump. Thump-thump-thump.</em>
</p>
<p>Something was wrong.</p>
<p>
  <em>Thump-thump-thump.</em>
</p>
<p>He wasn't crazy- he wasn't going crazy. All of it had been real.</p>
<p>
  <em>Thump-thump-thump.</em>
</p>
<p>Tom hadn't imagined the devil standing before him and an unfinished grave. The devil with his great horned head and green green eyes had reached down and caressed his cheek. Tom mimicked the motion, shaking hand gently touching his own face. The devil- no Harry- had a soft smile that Tom never wanted to stop seeing. He was bewitched. Four little words ran amok in his ears. '<em>Maybe I'm like you.'</em></p>
<p>
  <em>Thump.</em>
</p>
<p>Something screamed.</p>
<p>The sound swallowed the night whole as it ripped its way out of the forest and rattled Tom's bones. It was a howl that went on forever. It was an anger so dark and deep it rivaled the ocean. An anguished echo cried out the same incoherent word over and over every one as devastated as the last like a constant heartbeat all on its own. A scream so foreign and yet so familiar.</p>
<p>Windows shattered, glass flying out and littering the ground all around him. A piece lay near his foot and it should be too dark to see anything, the moon wasn't bright enough to illuminate the glass when it lay in his shadow. All the same, Tom clearly saw a bright crimson eye staring back at him.</p>
<p>
  <em>Thump.</em>
</p>
<p>Tom Riddle turned on his heel and ran away.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Different you, different me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Where do you think you're going Riddle?"</p>
<p>Tom stopped and turned, already halfway out the door. Billy Stubbs crossed his arms and looked down his nose at the other boy. At eight years old and big for his age already, he loomed over Tom and knew it. Billy loved to do it, it gave him a presence of power that made Tom want to push his fingers into his eyeballs and laugh while the older boy screamed. But Tom wouldn't be able to get away with that so he settled for the rabbit.</p>
<p>"Out." Tom said.</p>
<p>Billy stepped forward. He placed a hand on the door, holding it open. His ugly face twisted into a smirk. "Martha said you're not allowed to go anywhere. We all heard you get yelled at. Messing up your clothes, staying out all night. What a freak."</p>
<p>Billy stood there all smug and satisfied, so stupid and small in everything that mattered. Billy was big, popular, and couples kept thinking about adopting him because he was the 'right sort of boy'. It didn't matter that those same couples took one look at Tom's dark eyes and moved on with nervous glances. It didn't matter that his own parents had abandoned him at the orphanage like he was trash. Tom was special. Tom was like the devil himself. Tom would show them all someday just how mistaken they were before crushing them beneath his boot.</p>
<p>"You know where I went then?" Tom asked pleasantly. "Chasing after your rabbit."</p>
<p>Billy grabbed him by the shirt with a snarl. "I knew it! It was you all along Riddle. You let him out-"</p>
<p>"You left his cage open. You always forget. Mrs. Cole told you it would run away. She told you Billy and now it's gone." A polite smile adorned his lips. "Do you want to know what happened to it? I saw the whole thing."</p>
<p>The fist twisted further in his shirt. "Riddle." Billy growled.</p>
<p>"It ran and ran through the woods. It tried to hide but I always found it. It ran until it was too tired and laid on the ground." Tom leaned closer to Billy and whispered, "I heard it scream Billy. I watched it get eaten bit by bit. It was an awful sound you know, the bones breaking between the teeth of a monster. All because you left the cage open. All because you always forget your place."</p>
<p>Tom seized the boys arms with his hands and viciously thought '<em>Burn.'</em></p>
<p>Billy yelped and let go of him, red splotches shaped like palms sizzled angrily on his arms. Tom turned and ran out the open door chased by Billy's yells.</p>
<p>"Freak! I'll get you. I promise I'll get you Riddle. Go get lost in the woods then. Don't you even think about coming back!"</p>
<p>But all Tom could think of was offering the body of one Billy Stubbs to Harry and watching the devil crack the boy open and devour him, mouth covered in blood and guts, and then Harry would smile at Tom for giving him a gift.</p>
<p>Tom did not think about the scream.</p>
<p>Tom ran into the forest and let it swallow him whole.</p>
<hr/>
<p>The forest did not have a name.</p>
<p>The people of Godric's Hollow tried to give it one, but it never seemed to stick. They stared into the dark brush with suspicion and told tales of monsters and magic lurking in the bramble. Mrs. Cole called it the Devil's wood once and Tom thought that may be the closest they'd ever get. The forest shucked off all attempts to define it and simply continued to exist out of sight, out of mind to most.</p>
<p>Tom was not most people. His eyes were wide open scouring every shadow for a hopeful glimpse of Harry or perhaps the monster he'd heard in the night. The sun had been shining when he entered, now it seemed every ray of light had been trapped in the canopy, only a few bright beams straining through. That was fine though, darkness didn't bother Tom. He wasn't like Amy Benson crying for a candle after lights out. If he couldn't see, then he would listen. He crept through the holly bushes and did just so.</p>
<p>Leaves crunched underneath his feet. Birdsong filled the air and the gentle breeze of the wind whistled softly. Underneath it all was a distant thrum. Like the hum of hitting a fork against glass, only the sound went on forever, buried deep into the essence of everything around him. Focusing on it drug it back up and exposed a vastness that Tom could drown in. It sounded exactly like magic should and what else could it be?</p>
<p>The forest was magic. Harry was magic. Tom was magic. He felt almost giddy at just the thought. It all made sense. It had been meant for them to meet because Tom was meant for more than an unremarkable life at the whims of people like Billy Stubbs. Tom would become something more. His heart sang at the rightness of it.</p>
<p>Eventually, Tom found the hole he'd dug the night before along with the trowel he'd left behind. Still no Harry. He frowned and tried to remember his way back to the yew tree where the pair had talked when he heard the snapping of a twig.</p>
<p>Tom turned and gasped.</p>
<p>A stag stood before him, a mountain wreathed with a pair of wicked sharp horns. Tom barely came up to its knees. It began to circle him, long strides that had Tom constantly turning one way or the other to keep its face in sight. The stag stopped and bent down its great head until Tom could see its brilliant green eyes. Wait.</p>
<p>"Harry?"</p>
<p>The stag huffed and it sounded like a laugh. It eyed him mischievously before dropping to its knees in front of him. Tom stared. The stag jerked its head in a motion that said '<em>well come on then.'</em></p>
<p>Tom stepped forward and pressed his hands into ruddy brown fur. It felt coarse underneath his fingertips, but undoubtedly real. Tom was not crazy. Something pushed him forward and he found himself sprawled onto the stag's back as it made several more not quite laughing noises. Cheeks burning, Tom righted himself with legs on either side mimicking the way he'd seen people ride horses. He scowled at what was surely Harry and wondered what kind of magic this was and how he could convince Harry to teach it to him.</p>
<p>His musings were cut short as Harry rose and Tom suffered a sharp spike of vertigo. He squeezed his eyes shut and clung to Harry's neck. Barks filled the air and Harry went still under him.</p>
<p>When Tom opened his eyes the sight of wolves surrounding them greeted him. He counted a half dozen lurking in the brush watching them. One stepped closer with a growl,at least half again bigger than the rest. Its scarred face twisted into a snarl, mad gaze fixed not on Harry, but on Tom. The circle tightened.</p>
<p>"Harry." Tom hissed out under his breath unable to look away from the storm grey eyes pinned on his. Sometimes animals listened to what he said, but he knew that this wolf would fight him all the way. Harry shifted so that he faced the scarred wolf instead. He lowered his head just slightly and the antlers gleamed, ready and waiting. Unthreatened, the wolves pressed closer.</p>
<p>
  <em>Thump-Thump-Thump.</em>
</p>
<p>Tom pressed a hand to his chest as if he could silence his stupid heart. The other he aimed toward the scarred wolf and thought as hard he could, '<em>GO AWAY</em>.'</p>
<p>A force slammed into the wolf and flung it across the clearing where it landed with a whine. The other wolves hesitated then, backpedaling uncertainly. Tension tight like a thread broke and Harry took it as a chance for them to escape, darting away.</p>
<p>A roar shook the forest behind them.</p>
<p>Tom took a chance and looked back. The wolves chased after them, the scarred one in the lead, its wrath palpable. They barked and bit at Harry's heels, grey furred bodies weaving in and out between trees. Harry bounded ever forward.</p>
<p>His hooves pounded against the earth but he moved so fast it almost felt like they never touched the ground at all. The world blurred around them reduced to nothing more than flashes of brown and green. The forest thrummed. Tom wrung his fingers tight round Harry's neck and listened to his stupid heart shout with delight. A grin broke his features and he told Harry, "Faster!"</p>
<p>The wind roared all around them. Up here, Tom was on top of the world and it felt like he could never fall down. Up here, he was so far away from the orphanage and its wretched occupants. Up here, the only things that mattered were Tom, Harry, and the chase. Tom knew that if Harry really wanted to, he could probably gallop straight into the sky. Magic shimmered all around them. Tom felt untouchable, unconquerable, and <em>alive</em>.</p>
<p>Between the trees, covered in shadows, the forest showed him secrets in a blinding vision.</p>
<p>There, a lake frosted over in ice in the middle of summer.</p>
<p>There, a stone bridge at the top of the mountain where whispers gathered.</p>
<p>There, a twisted gnarled throne of oak and a skull settled in its seat.</p>
<p>There, a hooded figure stood before the ancient yew tree and carved out a message.</p>
<p>Mere images, already fading to the back of his mind despite the cloying sense of importance to them.</p>
<p>All that mattered to Tom right now was this moment atop the world, beside the devil, wonder in his eyes. He wanted to laugh. He wanted to jump off and chase Harry himself. He wanted to howl like the wolves running alongside them. He never wanted it to stop.</p>
<p>But it had to.</p>
<p>The wolves peeled off, one by one. The scarred one chased the longest, raw fury sustaining it. But it too, fell behind with a disgruntled gnashing of teeth. Then, there were two.</p>
<p>Harry slowed down to a brisk walk. Tom threw his head back and was shocked to see the stars shining above them. How could it be night already? Tom couldn't have been here longer than an hour. The forest had snatched the time away and stolen it from him. Tom swallowed. It didn't remove the lump in his throat or ease the sudden ache that descended upon him.</p>
<p>It wasn't fair. Tom wanted more.</p>
<p>For one brief second, he hated the forest that could give him all his wildest dreams more than he loved it. For one brief second, he imagined burning it all to the ground. But he wouldn't, couldn't. Not yet.</p>
<p>Then Tom went tumbling to the ground, rolling in the grass as the stag disappeared beneath him. He groaned and flipped onto his back. Tom lay there, under the stars, breathless. He turned his head to the left to find Harry sprawled out beside him watching him with a grin so big it must have hurt to make the face. He was human again, or as close as he ever got to it.</p>
<p>They looked at each other for a moment. Then they both burst out laughing. Tom didn't know why, but it felt right. It felt good. Something warm settled in his stomach.</p>
<p>Then Harry rose, his hands finding Tom's and pulling him to his feet.</p>
<p>"Rabbit." He said.</p>
<p>Tom stared up at him. Harry with his black messy hair that resembled crow's feathers and his deeply tanned skin, clad in only a pair of threadbare shorts. Harry and his branching curved horns, albeit smaller in this form, as imposing as ever. Harry and his unnatural green, green eyes.</p>
<p>"Harry." Tom said.</p>
<p>Harry who was strange, horrible, and wonderful.</p>
<p>What Tom knew of the devil was this: he was the best of all the angels once. He had been the brightest, the most beautiful and of course, the most ambitious. Tom didn't think it was such a bad thing to be, but Tom had been dutifully told he was going to hell anyway. Regardless, if Harry truly wasn't the devil, then he still had that dark uncanny allure that had Tom wondering about sin and temptation.</p>
<p>"I have to go." Tom admitted.</p>
<p>"I know."</p>
<p>"I don't want to go."</p>
<p>"I know."</p>
<p>The words began to flow out of him and there was nothing Tom could do to stop them. "I want you to teach me magic. I want to be like you. I want to know what you really are and I have so many questions and I want to know everything. Tell me everything."</p>
<p>Harry let go of his hands, his smile vanishing and leaving his face unreadable. His eyes glimmered. "One day I will, but not tonight. You said it yourself, there's not enough time. I have to bring you back."</p>
<p>"What if there never is enough time?" Tom asked, and he hated the way his voice turned small. "What if it's just gone like today?"</p>
<p>The only warning he got was the small wicked curve of Harry's mouth. The devil placed a clawed hand on his shoulder and drew in close. <em>Thump-Thump-Thump</em> went Tom's stupid relentless heart. Harry leaned down and Tom tried not to shudder at the cold breath that hit his ear.</p>
<p>Harry whispered, "Then I guess you'll have to keep coming back."</p>
<p>And just like that, Harry let go of him and began walking away from Tom.</p>
<p>Tom stood there speechless.</p>
<p>"Rabbit?"</p>
<p>He stomped after Harry.</p>
<p>"You're terrible! And awful!"</p>
<p>"Well, you did call me the devil."</p>
<p>"You said you weren't."</p>
<p>In response, Harry pulled out a bright red apple out of nowhere. He tossed it at Tom, his smile widening as the boy nearly dropped it. Tom frowned down at the fruit in his hand.</p>
<p>"You think you're funny don't you?"</p>
<p>"Aren't I?"</p>
<p>Tom scowled at him. "No. You're not funny at all."</p>
<p>Harry shrugged, still smiling.</p>
<p>Soon, they stood at the edge of the forest once again. Tom threw Harry an expectant look.</p>
<p>"You will wait for me."</p>
<p>Harry rolled his eyes. "Yes, I'll wait. I already promised."</p>
<p>Tom nodded then hesitated.</p>
<p>"Harry-" He started.</p>
<p>"People eat apples." Harry interrupted. "I know they do."</p>
<p>He crossed his arms and looked at Tom. Tom didn't understand why it mattered to him, but all the same he took a bite of the apple, chewed slowly and swallowed, all under the heavy gaze of the devil.</p>
<p>Harry beamed at him, pleased. He returned to the forest, melting into the shadows leaving Tom alone.</p>
<p>Tom examined the apple in his hand. Such an unnecessary thing. Harry was too nice. Harry might actually care.</p>
<p>Tom took another bite.</p>
<p>It was sweet.</p>
<hr/>
<p>There were two boys. Perhaps there were two monsters.</p>
<p>A rabbit watched them.</p>
<p>So did Billy Stubbs.</p>
<hr/>
<p>Eighty four days.</p>
<p>It had been eighty four days since Harry had seen Rabbit.</p>
<p>Since he had seen Tom.</p>
<p>He shouldn't keep count. It was stupid and pointless. Every day he added a tally and told himself that this way lay madness. Still Harry continued to keep count.</p>
<p>(Another count continued to accumulate as well. The number hidden stuffed in a box, wrapped in chains and pushed back to the furthest corner of his mind.)</p>
<p>Today Harry lay beneath the bramble, occasionally plucking a blackberry and popping it into his mouth. He might still be there come tomorrow. He'd been there yesterday and the day before. Urgency had lost meaning to him a long time ago. He was content to observe a spider weave its web between his horns, a long and drawn out process that he kept ruining by moving.</p>
<p>That was how Greyback found him. The wolf greeted him with a growl and a flash of fangs. Harry ignored him. The fangs snapped above his face.</p>
<p>"Go away." Harry said.</p>
<p>Greyback growled.</p>
<p>"I'm not running today. Go chase something you can actually catch."</p>
<p>The wolf placed a large paw on Harry's chest and pressed down. <em>Run,</em> the forest whispered.</p>
<p>"No."</p>
<p>Harry glared at the wolf and it glared right back. Claws dug into his skin and Harry let them. He focused again on the spider dangling on silk threads. The forest murmured its disappointment. Good.</p>
<p>Greyback removed the paw and sat back on his haunches. If wolves could sneer, then surely Greyback had mastered it. Harry threw an arm over his eyes.</p>
<p>It wasn't that he didn't like running. No, part of him loved it. Harry was <em>good</em> at it. No matter what form he took the chase exhilarated him. Nothing in the forest could catch him and they had all tried. Greyback came the closest, so the forest sent him to nip at Harry's heels. No, the problem wasn't the running at all. It was the big question mark of what the forest wanted him to be ready to <em>run from.</em></p>
<p>His mind flashed back to the tree and those four strange little words carved into it and he grimaced. When the time came, maybe he'd run from this Lord Voldemort. Maybe he'd let it catch him.</p>
<p>
  <em>No.</em>
</p>
<p>The woods shook with the refusal. Harry sighed. He wished Tom was there.</p>
<p>Harry sat up. The spider fell and landed on his nose. The black and yellow arachnid surveyed him with irritation. Harry offered it his hand and let it climb onto him. He placed it into the bramble where the spider might have better luck.</p>
<p>He crawled out and stretched, cracking his bones with satisfaction. Greyback followed him. Stubborn wolf.</p>
<p>"I already told you no. Go, Greyback. Go home."</p>
<p>Greyback bared his teeth and stepped closer and Harry was suddenly sick of it all. He wanted out. There was no way out.</p>
<p>"Go ahead then. Bite me! Tear me apart! I'm waiting!" Harry laughed and it was bitter and dark, like poison on his lips if only he could be so lucky. All too easy to imagine vines crawling up from his insides and choking him or the earth opening up and devouring him because it wouldn't be the first time and it certainly wouldn't be the last. The forest wanted him to live after all.</p>
<p>He threw out his arms and repeated, "I'm waiting."</p>
<p>Always. Never. Forever.</p>
<p>And when Harry left, he walked.</p>
<hr/>
<p>Ninety five days.</p>
<p>Inspired by the spider, Harry decided to try his hand at making something. A thin strip of leather lay across his knees as he threaded feathers, beads and bone onto it. At its center was a hollow acorn. He laced it with magic, wrung it full of protective charms. It hummed in his hands.</p>
<p>The necklace wasn't pretty. It was macabre, strange and incomplete but what was missing exactly, Harry didn't know. He tied it around his neck. It suited him.</p>
<hr/>
<p>One hundred days.</p>
<p>A nice round number. Tom would show up today wouldn't he? One hundred was a special number. A number meant for occasions. Harry hoped it meant something.</p>
<p>It snowed the last time he saw Tom.</p>
<p>
  <em>Big white fat flakes fell from the sky and melted as they touched his skin. Harry shivered. It had been a bright beautiful summer day when he'd taken a nap. His bare feet left tracks in the pure white. He rubbed his arms and considered going back to grab some furs. But Rabbit was there and it was already twilight. The time trickled away like an ache.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Harry soldiered on.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>The boy waited by the yew tree. He stood taller than the last time Harry had seen him. A green scarf wrapped around his neck, he turned as Harry approached. It was the same pale face, the same hungry eyes, yet there was something irrevocably different besides the years he'd aged. Maybe something about the way he held himself. The second the boy saw him, he'd begun walking his way. He stopped a step in front of Harry and looked up at him, his mouth pursed.</em>
</p>
<p>"<em>Rabbit." Harry greeted.</em></p>
<p>
  <em>The boy wrinkled his nose. "Don't call me that."</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Harry tilted his head. "Have you come up with something different then?"</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>The boy frowned, his brows furrowing and he said nothing for a long moment. Then quietly, "Tom."</em>
</p>
<p>"<em>Like Tomlin?"</em></p>
<p>"<em>Tam Lin, and no. Do you really not remember?" Tom scrutinized him. "I saw you yesterday."</em></p>
<p>
  <em>Yesterday. Harry trembled. His breath came out in small wisps of fog.</em>
</p>
<p>"<em>Oh." He said as if it meant nothing at all.</em></p>
<p>"<em>Harry-" Tom stopped himself. Questions danced in his dark eyes and his voice sounded strange when he asked, "When was the last time you saw me? What happened?"</em></p>
<p>"<em>Summer. We ran from the wolves. I gave you an apple." Harry remembered that much at least. "But you're going to tell me that wasn't the real last time aren't you?"</em></p>
<p>
  <em>Tom said nothing.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>The forest laughed.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Harry closed his eyes and focused only on the darkness. "How long ago was that?"</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>He waited. Tom still didn't say anything and for a moment Harry wondered if the boy would walk away from him. The image he presented today must be as far from the devil as it could be. Harry was cold, tired, and lonely and Tom still smelled of hunger and blood. There was nothing magical about this at all. Just the inevitable weight of time again settling over him.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Things changed. Tom changed. Harry stayed the same. Always.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Hands gently pried his fingers from wrapped around his torso. Tom rubbed circles on Harry's palms with his thumbs. Harry let him and dared not open his eyes.</em>
</p>
<p>"<em>You're ridiculous." Tom said, but there was no heat to his words. A bit exasperated if anything. Warmth flared between their hands. Tom's magic coiled around his limbs like a serpent, chasing away the chill. The forest hissed in displeasure. Harry bowed his head and sighed in relief.</em></p>
<p>"<em>That was three years ago."</em></p>
<p>
  <em>Instantly, his heart sank.</em>
</p>
<p>"<em>You will see me again. I told you, didn't I? This isn't the last time." Tom squeezed his hands lightly. "I'm not done with you yet."</em></p>
<p>
  <em>Harry did open his eyes then. Tom stared down at their joined hands. The tips of his ears were bright red. It would be easy to tease him.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Instead Harry said, "Thanks."</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>That was as much kindness as Tom could stomach because he scowled. "I told you. I want everything. There are things you still haven't taught me."</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Oh. There was the difference.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Tom wasn't afraid of him anymore.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>The last bit of cold melted away. Harry smiled.</em>
</p>
<p>"<em>You're right."</em></p>
<p>One hundred days, but he still didn't see Tom.</p>
<hr/>
<p>One hundred and twenty days.</p>
<p>Another message on another tree.</p>
<p>
  <em>I will find you.</em>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>One hundred and thirty seven days.</p>
<p>Harry pushed the heels of his palms against his eyes and thought of absolutely nothing at all.</p>
<hr/>
<p>It rained.</p>
<p>It drizzled and the dark clouds above promised that this was a mere prelude of the storm to come. The day had barely started only to be swathed in the downpour.</p>
<p>A sleepy kind of day, Harry thought absently. On cue, the wolf pressed against his side let out a loud yawn. Another lay across his legs and snored. One sprawled across his chest, tongue lolling out. Harry ran a hand through its thick fur and its tail thumped happily.</p>
<p>Greyback sat alone at the entrance of the cave and watched the rain fall. He looked back at the pile his pack and Harry made with derision. Harry stuck out his tongue at him. Greyback turned away with a snort.</p>
<p>Harry stared up at the glittering stalactites.</p>
<p>One hundred eighty one days.</p>
<p>He kept counting. He should stop. It was useless. After all, he'd stopped trying to escape hadn't he? How many times had he thrashed against the vines that sought to hold him? Where had it got him? Magic danced along his fingertips. Magic ensnared his heart and dragged it down into the deep dark earth.</p>
<p>There was no point.</p>
<p>He should stop. He should just-</p>
<p>Stop.</p>
<p><em>No, Harry.</em> The forest ordered. <em>No.</em></p>
<p>The wolves whined.</p>
<p>Harry released a ragged breath.</p>
<p>
  <em>Never let you go.</em>
</p>
<p>A dark retort died in his throat. Harry tilted his head and listened. He heard the rain begin to pour with ferocity. He heard Greyback growl low and menacing. He heard the rumbling of distant thunder. He heard everything that lived in his forest. Every heartbeat. Every breath. All connected to the forest. All connected to him. And there-</p>
<p>Harry wriggled his way out from under the wolves. He paid no mind to their questioning barks. He stumbled past Greyback and out of the cave. He listened again.</p>
<p>There.</p>
<p>Harry ran.</p>
<p>Greyback did not chase after him. The other wolves yipped and followed.</p>
<p>He careened down the mountainside sliding through the mud and narrowly avoiding the many obstacles in his way. His feet crashed through puddles, kicked up water and sent it splashing. Lightning flashed. The bolt struck so close that Harry was momentarily blinded. He tripped and fell face first into a tree. He blinked furiously trying to get rid of the spots in his vision. Thunder rumbled, the sound a colossal dragon descending upon them all.</p>
<p>He pressed against the bark and took a second to just breathe. Then Harry forged onward.</p>
<p><em>Please</em>, he thought.</p>
<p>This was not the longest he has ever waited. If things continued, surely it would get worse. The time between meetings stretching out like the distance between stars. The bitter voice in his head told him to go back the way he came. Who was Tom to him anyway? A kid with magic and a vicious streak. What good could come out of this? No good probably. Tom was no good. Tom was a killer. Tom was a lonely child.</p>
<p>But Harry had to do something. He couldn't just give up. He had to believe there was a way out, and maybe Tom was the key to that. If not, well, at least he wouldn't be alone for a little while.</p>
<p>As Harry laid eyes on the boy shivering in the rain waiting for him, his soul stirred with some bittersweet feeling that in a sentence said <em>I know you, I missed you, where have you been?</em></p>
<p>Then he saw Tom's face.</p>
<p>His hands involuntarily closed into fists. His jaw set. Anger burned in his chest.</p>
<p>Tom looked up at him and paled, immediately taking a step back.</p>
<p>A dark bruise colored his right eye. Blood rested on his lips busted as they were. And that was what he could see. What injuries hid under the boy's clothes? What happened to him? Who did this? Who?</p>
<p>Harry stepped forward and Tom took another step back.</p>
<p>Afraid of him again.</p>
<p><em>He should be</em>, said the forest.</p>
<p>"Tom." Harry said, trying and failing to keep his voice even.</p>
<p>The boy's eyes widened and he sucked in a breath. He kept up the game of backing away when Harry approached until he backed up straight into one of the wolves who had caught up with them. Tom startled forward and Harry grabbed onto his wrist, small thin thing that it was, his fingers wrapping around it easily.</p>
<p>"Tom." He repeated.</p>
<p>"I never told you my name!" Tom tried to yank his arm away. "I know I didn't. So how do you know?"</p>
<p>Up close, his face looked that much worse. Blue, purple and red mingled all together. Harry couldn't stand it. He could fix it, rather he would. Magic was good for that at least.</p>
<p>"Harry." Tom hissed.</p>
<p>"You did tell me. Or you will." Harry let go of his wrist and scooped up the boy instead as gently as he could. So light, too light.</p>
<p>"Let me down! What are you doing? Let me go!" The boy wriggled and struggled to get out of his grip. Harry cursed and held him tighter still.</p>
<p>"Don't you want to know everything?" He asked. "Stop or I'll let you go and if I let you go then I'm going to leave and you're never going to see me again."</p>
<p>Tom slumped in his arms. Harry adjusted him and the boy winced at the movement.</p>
<p>"Sorry." Tom shot him a venomous glare. He threw his arms around Harry's neck and looked away, remaining still and compliant. The rain fell in droves on them, matting their hair and soaking them through. Harry sighed. The trip back up was harder than the way down. Harry carefully trekked up the mountainside, doing his best to avoid jostling Tom.</p>
<p>"I'm sorry," he said again uselessly. "I'll explain once we get to shelter. I promise."</p>
<p>The boy said nothing. He buried his head in the crook of Harry's shoulder, hands tightening around his neck. Someone else might say Tom clung to him, but Harry felt the fingers dig into his skin and knew better.</p>
<p><em>Please</em>, he thought again and didn't know what he was even asking for.</p>
<p>Greyback no longer sat at the cave entrance when they arrived, nor in the cave itself. Gone. He was somewhere out there in the storm, most likely sulking. It was for the best anyway, the wolf hated Tom. The other wolves sniffed at the boy with curiosity, and Tom recoiled at the noses brushing against his shoes and legs. Harry shooed them away and set the boy down.</p>
<p>The second Tom touched the ground he dashed away from Harry desperately creating space between them. Ten feet away and Tom whirled back on him and watched him warily. Harry held his hands up in surrender.</p>
<p>"Explain." Tom spat out.</p>
<p>How to explain? Harry paused, searching for the right words. He didn't truly know, he guessed, he wondered, but he didn't know for certain.</p>
<p>"You did tell me your name." Harry said, "But not the current you. In the future you tell me and that's how I know."</p>
<p>If anything Tom looked more incensed. "Liar."</p>
<p>Harry took a deep breath and pushed away the irritation. "I'm not lying. I don't have a reason to lie."</p>
<p>"Then you tricked me." Tom insisted. "Because I wouldn't tell you. Because you said names are power and I wouldn't give that to you."</p>
<p>The last word he said with so much hate and suspicion and Harry couldn't keep himself from scowling.</p>
<p>"You think I need your name? If I wanted to hurt you, I would have already." Then because he was petty he added, "<em>Tom</em>."</p>
<p>Every mention of his name had Tom unable to stop his hands from shaking. He looked away from Harry, eyes darting to the cave entrance, to the wolves, and then back to Harry, calculating.</p>
<p>"I'd catch you." Harry promised. "You know that, so don't. Just be quiet and listen."</p>
<p>Tom shoved his hands into his pockets and glowered. "Fine." He ground out.</p>
<p>Harry sat down and gathered his thoughts. Where to start?</p>
<p>"Time moves in a straight line right? Yesterday, today, tomorrow. You know this. That's how the world works." Harry drew a line in the dirt in front of him. "But here in this place, the forest, time doesn't work like that at all."</p>
<p>Tom watched as he drew a mess of squiggles over the line.</p>
<p>"If the line is your world, the outside, then this," Harry pointed at the chaotic spiral, "is the forest. Separate but connected. It's like... um...on a different shelf or in a bubble. When the two cross paths the time here doesn't always match up to the time here."</p>
<p>"Your tomorrow isn't the same as my tomorrow." Tom muttered, "You said that before."</p>
<p>"Exactly, that's what makes it complicated. I can't predict it. The you I saw was older, eight or nine, but the time before that, you looked like you do now. It hasn't been long since you saw me last right?"</p>
<p>Tom had stopped glaring, tension easing out of his body. His brows furrowed. "Three weeks."</p>
<p>"Longer for me." Harry smiled mirthlessly. "I guess the best way to describe it is this. The you that leaves isn't always the one that comes back and the me that you leave behind isn't always the one you find again. Things happen, will happen, have happened and we don't understand until we're past it."</p>
<p>The boy had strayed closer as Harry spoke. "So you weren't ignoring me."</p>
<p>He acted as if that was the gravest of offenses. Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes.</p>
<p>"No, I waited for you. That's all I can do. Wait and hope our times line up."</p>
<p>"And you'll keep waiting for me?" Tom asked. "You promised."</p>
<p>"I did."</p>
<p>The boy seemed satisfied with that, drifting within arms reach. Harry gestured for him to come closer.</p>
<p>"Let me see your face. The rest of you too. I can show you another bit of magic." At Tom's suspicious expression he added, "Please."</p>
<p>Tom let himself be drawn in and Harry got another close look at the bruises marring his face. Harry placed his hand over the black eye and focused on his magic- no the forest's magic. Green, wild and encompassed a vastness and agelessness beyond his comprehension. It undulated and grew. Healing was its specialty and Tom's injuries weren't that severe. Still as Harry cast the spell he met resistance from the forest itself. It was oddly reluctant about it.</p>
<p>Beneath his fingers, the darkness around the eye lightened before vanishing completely. Harry moved onto his lips, ignoring the flush it provoked in the boy, then down to his chest where several more bruises lay.</p>
<p>"Who did this to you?"</p>
<p>"Billy and Dennis. I came here to see you but you never showed up. They were waiting when I came back out."</p>
<p>Tom tilted his head and stared down at him. Then his expression brightened and he smiled. "I get it. You weren't mad at me at all were you? You were never mad at me Harry."</p>
<p>The smile transformed, softness fading, fierce elation taking its place. "I can bring them here to you if you want. It would be easy. You could hurt them and I could watch. You want that don't you?"</p>
<p>He dipped his head lower and whispered, "Don't you want that Harry?"</p>
<p>"I don't want to hurt anyone." Harry meant it. The imagined shadowy silhouettes of boys attacking Tom danced in his head. Then it was just one round faceless boy tormenting Harry himself, the memory fuzzy and out of reach.</p>
<p>Tom said, "I don't believe you."</p>
<p>He kept smiling, this dark hearted boy. Dangerous boy who was too smart for his own good. Still wrong though. Harry never wanted to hurt anyone. Not even that half formed shadow in the back of his head. All he had ever wanted was it for it all to stop. Harry moved to untie his necklace.</p>
<p><em>Don't, </em>the forest whispered.</p>
<p>But Harry still brought it forth from his neck and wrapped it around Tom's, tying it neatly and letting it fall against the boy's chest.</p>
<p>"As long as you wear that it'll protect you. You won't have to worry about those other kids anymore."</p>
<p>Tom examined it, running his fingers over feather and bone. "You really aren't the devil are you?" he murmured quietly as if to himself. He brought his eyes back up to Harry.</p>
<p>"You'll teach me how to make something like this? How to heal?" His voice was quiet, but eager. Hungry.</p>
<p>"If that's what you want."</p>
<p>"But what do you want? You don't get anything out of this at all."</p>
<p>
  <em>A way out.</em>
</p>
<p>Harry forced himself to shrug. "Just keep coming back. That's enough." His throat felt raw. "Don't forget about me."</p>
<p>"I won't."</p>
<p>And from that point on, there was no going back.</p>
<hr/>
<p>Greyback was the best wolf. Faster than all the others. Bigger. Stronger. Best. He proved it over and over. He had earned a name. Only the boy could outrun him. Stupid boy. Stupid boy and his smaller more dangerous boy.</p>
<p>Stupid boy didn't know he was being hunted by Red Eyes.</p>
<p>Red Eyes crept along like a snake, silent and unnatural. It left behind no scent or footprints. A ghost, but even ghosts had presence. Red Eyes exuded nothing, wrapped in blackness, those crimson orbs constantly seeking out its prey.</p>
<p>It wanted stupid boy, but it never seemed to be in the right time or place. Greyback snarled. He would catch stupid boy first. No one else.</p>
<p>Greyback followed the eerie blankness Red Eyes left in its wake and began his hunt.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks for the kudos, comments, bookmarks, and subs. More plot next time.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Your name on my tongue</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Names have power. Naming things, a different power. Sacrifice, yet another power.</p>
<p>The bones littered around the base of the oak throne were evidence of this. Their names snatched away hungrily by the woods around them. Bodies upon bodies bled out by those seeking to ascend and claim a kingdom, all who failed and lay alongside their victims. All dead and gone. All devoured and left to waste away. Except for one.</p>
<p><em>Harry, </em>the forest crooned.</p>
<p>The child shuddered awake. He blinked blearily at his unfamiliar surroundings nowhere near where he went to sleep. The forest shifted the landscape on a whim, creating ever changing labyrinths. Bringing Harry to where it wanted was a simple task. It greeted the child with bright blooming sunflowers. They rose from the dirt, yellow and cheery, full grown in seconds. Harry swatted them away with a snarl.</p>
<p>"What do you want?"</p>
<p>Endlessly defiant. The forest sighed in a gentle breeze rustling through the woods, picking up leaves and scattering them.</p>
<p><em>Harry</em>, the forest said and this time it seized a hold of the child's body. Harry let out a sharp cry and stiffened as his limbs no longer obeyed him. He struggled as the forest guided him down the trail it created to the oak throne. The child thrashed and cursed but the forest only held him tighter.</p>
<p>The forest loved him.</p>
<p>Before Harry, the forest hadn't understood the concept of want. It dealt in rituals and dark magic. The appropriate spell in exchange for the requisite offering. That changed when the child's blood fed its roots. The child with the green, green eyes and hair like feathers.</p>
<p>The only sacrifice the forest had ever accepted because it wasn't a sacrifice at all. Harry was a gift, willingly offered and now in its possession forevermore. The forest saved him, molded him into the shape that suited him most, and loved, loved, loved.</p>
<p>What a wonderful gift.</p>
<p>Tears fell and hit the ground like rain. The child looked at the twisted oak throne and shook his head violently.</p>
<p>"No. Never. God, just stop. I won't." Desperation drenched every word. "You can't make me do this."</p>
<p>He was right of course. Still the forest forced him to look at it. Harry needed to accept the inevitability of it.</p>
<p>Thrones did not exist without kings.</p>
<p>Still Harry said, "<em>No</em>."</p>
<p>The forest released its hold and let the child collapse in the dirt like a puppet with its strings cut. It could punish him. Fill his lungs with foxglove or force him to tread on thorns. It watched Harry push himself to his feet. The child trembled but rage turned his expression into a frightening visage. He wrenched his eyes shut.</p>
<p>"I hate you."</p>
<p>Harry shifted and a crow flew away from the clearing.</p>
<p>It was not the first time the child had said it. It mattered not. The forest loved him still. One day Harry would give in. He would willingly claim everything the forest offered and give it the one thing it needed from him.</p>
<p>The forest waited patiently.</p>
<hr/>
<p>"How old are you?"</p>
<p>Harry ignored him. Tom quietly seethed.</p>
<p>They sat together on the hollow log beneath the yew, snow falling gently around them. Orbs of light hovered in the air, drifting to and fro, blinking and dimming in intensity as Tom commanded them. His own will-o'-wisps, though Harry simply called them wisps. A thought and they shined, another and they vanished. A simple spell that normally would have Tom's head racing with ideas and plans fell short when he glanced at Harry.</p>
<p>The other huddled under a thick fur, eyes following at the wisps, head tilted oddly as if he were listening to something. The longer he listened the more cross Harry became, mouth drawn, tension gripping his body. Tom, who had seen Harry truly angry, who knew nothing quite as terrifying, did not like that at all. Not to mention being <em>ignored</em>. He sent one of the wisps directly in front of Harry's face and made it swell with brightness.</p>
<p>Harry hissed and covered his eyes. Satisfied, Tom let it vanish. Harry peeked out between fingers at him, expression still severe. "What is it?"</p>
<p>"How old are you?" Tom repeated.</p>
<p>Harry squinted at him. "How old are you now?"</p>
<p>"Nine." It wasn't quite a lie. There were only a few days between now and his birthday. Tom absently rubbed the end of the scarf he'd stolen for himself in celebration.</p>
<p>"Older than you then." Harry said.</p>
<p>Tom opened his mouth to demand a real answer and Harry waved him off before he could. He closed his eyes and bowed his head. "How old do I look to you?"</p>
<p>And Tom wanted to say that he looked ageless, but that wasn't quite right. Three years had passed and Harry remained immutable. Just as monstrous and terrifying as ever, and all the more beautiful for it. His eyes were the worst. Time lay trapped there behind green irises that never reminded him of the forest. They haunted Tom. Fear curled in his stomach every time they snapped to him filled with ethereal light. Then Harry would smile or tease and lessen the effect of his own presence.</p>
<p>Harry could be so much worse.</p>
<p>He kept on showing Tom these moments of weakness. Shivering in the cold, hunched in on himself. Saying <em>please </em>as though Tom had any power over him at all. The times Harry held himself as a predator were few and far between. Sure, occasionally blood lingered on his lips and served a grim reminder of Billy's rabbit. More often, melancholy hung on his gaze as he looked at the woods and found them wanting. If Tom took away all those unnatural parts of Harry, judged him with his eyes closed then-</p>
<p>"A teenager," Tom decided. "Sixteen?"</p>
<p>Harry opened his eyes a fraction. Unnerving green peeked out.</p>
<p>"But you're much older aren't you?"</p>
<p>Harry hummed, a smile playing about his lips that contained no happiness. "I don't know."</p>
<p>"How can you not know?" Tom exclaimed. Then remembering himself he said, "Time is different here, but still shouldn't you know?"</p>
<p>"How could I know?" Harry stood suddenly. The smile withered away into a baring of teeth. "How could I possibly know?"</p>
<p>He stared up at the cold colorless sky, hands clenched into fists at his sides. Energy crackled around him like bolts of electricity. Harry said, "I guess. I count the days. I wonder. I don't know."</p>
<p>He let out a long breath. Out go the lights, all the wisps wink out of existence in the wave of the exhalation. Shadows stretched, the spreading darkness wrapping itself around the devil in an intangible cloak. Tom marvelled at the effortlessness of it all.</p>
<p>"I was born at the end of summer." Harry said. "The last day of July I think. Sometimes I can almost remember it…"</p>
<p>He trailed off. Snowflakes touched his skin and refused to melt. Frost crept up his body yet Harry paid it no mind. He brought a clawed hand to his chest and rubbed at its center.</p>
<p>"Sometimes I can't remember anything besides this place." He grimaced. "It lies. Tries to tell me those memories are just dreams."</p>
<p>"Who lies to you?" Tom asked.</p>
<p>Harry shook his head. His fingers stilled. He stared down at his chest as if he expected to find something there. Only a few feet separated him and Tom, but Harry was a million years away and that was absolutely unacceptable.</p>
<p>Tom bit back a chatter of teeth and reached out to the devil. At six, Tom barely reached Harry's waist. At nine he was able to touch the spot that held Harry's attention without trouble. Still the movement was awkward and left him fervently yearning for the day when they could look each other in the eye. Perhaps one day Harry would have to look up at <em>him</em>.</p>
<p>It felt like touching a corpse. Tom couldn't help but shiver as the chill clung to him. <em>Come back to me,</em> he thought and it was more demand than spell. <em>You're not allowed to leave.</em></p>
<p>He focused on his magic the way Harry taught him. Whereas Harry's magic was all sylvan and verdant, Tom had the smoldering of embers and the roar of fire. He called to it, pictured flames licking up his arms. The warmth washed over them. The snow at their feet melted away leaving them standing in a perfect circle of grass.</p>
<p>Harry lifted his head slightly and stared at Tom from beneath the fringe of his wild hair. He said nothing, his face stayed expressionless. A look that dissected Tom, intense and unnerving and wholly reminiscent of the day Tom had looked up from an unfinished grave and straight at a monster. The second Tom let his hand drop, Harry moved.</p>
<p>A pair of arms wrapped themselves around Tom and tugged him close. Blood rushed to his face, and Tom hated how he burned with embarrassment. He didn't understand it. No one else made him react like this. Just Harry. Harry with his careful touches and his soft smiles. Harry, Tom belatedly realized, who was currently hugging him with something like desperation and Tom did not know what to do. He stood in the cage of Harry's arms, face red, wanting and not wanting it to end, unsure of whether he should hug the devil back or shove him away.</p>
<p>Harry set his chin on top of Tom's head. The hug tightened. <em>Thump-thump-thump </em>went Tom's stupid heart. Harry said, "Sometimes I think I remember you."</p>
<p>He did not sound happy about it.</p>
<p>"What do you mean?" Tom asked.</p>
<p>"I don't know. I just-" He cut himself off. Misery lingered in his voice. "Sorry. I shouldn't have done that."</p>
<p>Harry let go and took a step back and it took everything for Tom to not grab those retreating arms and keep them wrapped around him. Stupid ridiculous impulses.</p>
<p>"Harry?"</p>
<p>And the devil was already turning away from him, already slipping away deep into the woods.</p>
<p>"Forget about it."</p>
<p>Just like that, Harry left, dragging the darkness with him.</p>
<p>No goodbye or promise to wait.</p>
<p>Perhaps he had pushed too far, Harry could be mercurial at the best of times. But this? Tom ignored the all too familiar hurt and let anger cloud everything. He trudged his way out of the forest glaring the whole way. It wasn't until Tom laid in his bed at the orphanage that he noticed another odd thing about the devil. Pressed up against each other, Tom had suffered through his own tumultuous heartbeat, but he couldn't remember hearing a pulse from Harry.</p>
<p>In fact, there had been no sound at all.</p>
<hr/>
<p>Time went on.</p>
<p>Whenever he got the chance Tom trekked out to the forest only to be disappointed. After the second week, he started to bring a book to pass the time. He devoured the words hungrily, searching for anything with a hint of magic or an answer to what Harry truly was. His head was filled to the brim with fairy tales and old legends but none of them seemed right. Harry was one of a kind.</p>
<p>Then darkness fell and Tom snuck back into his room. One night he heard Martha and Mrs. Cole talking.</p>
<p>"The doctors say Susan won't make it. She's too weak to fight off the fever."</p>
<p>Mrs. Cole scoffed, no doubt already deep into her bottle of gin. "We always lose the good kids."</p>
<p>Martha made a disapproving noise.</p>
<p>"She won't be the last. Maybe we'll get lucky and be rid of one of the troublemakers."</p>
<p>"I should hope not." Martha said. "It's a cruel enough winter as it is."</p>
<p>Number one troublemaker Tom hid in the shadows and scowled. Days later the orphans lined up against the windows to watch as the body was taken away. Some of the girls cried, loud and annoying as always. More relevant were the children who could not stop coughing, eyes rimmed red, wiping away snot on their shirt sleeves. Tom eyed them with disgust from a distance. The necklace thrummed against his chest and he had never been more grateful for it.</p>
<p>Ever since Harry had draped it over his head, Tom refused to take it off. He found himself reaching up to cradle it whenever he read, feathers and bones brushing against his bare skin. A strange amalgamation of the forest and Harry, the magic a small but consistent hum only growing in intensity when Tom was in danger. It droned that day when he first emerged from the forest wearing it to find Billy and his friends waiting for him yet again.</p>
<p>Billy sneered at the sight of Tom's newly healed face. He took a step forward, fists ready, and the necklace buzzed with energy. Billy's eyes glazed over, mouth falling open. Tom watched as the boy shook his head in confusion. Despite his best efforts, his gaze seemed to slip right off of Tom leaving him bewildered. So when Tom sauntered past, Billy and his goons did nothing but stare wordlessly at nothing.</p>
<p>One day they would grovel at his feet.</p>
<p>Nowadays, they knew to give him a wide berth and scattered when he approached. Still, Billy glared at him from a distance, never acting, simply watching. As Susan was carted out of the orphanage never to return, Billy kept his eyes on him. A useless gesture. Magic would never let Billy harm him again. Not even death would touch him.</p>
<p>All thanks to the necklace. All thanks to Harry. If only the devil would show his face again.</p>
<p>Where was he?</p>
<p>Snow melted and revealed the beginning sprawl of spring. Gradually pops of color made themselves known in the sea of green. Wildflowers brushed against his feet as he walked. Violet morning glory climbed the trees in a bid to reach the sky. The field sloshed in the gold of blooming dandelions. An undeniable beauty and Tom hated it all.</p>
<p>
  <em>Where was he?</em>
</p>
<p>Time went on.</p>
<p>The blistering summer heat killed off spring and at the end of July Tom decided that he wanted to hurt Harry. The next time they met, Tom would crush him with a spell like he had with that wolf. He'd grab onto the devil's arms and burn them raw. He'd stand on tiptoe to reach that vulnerable throat with his teeth.</p>
<p>Harry once said 'Don't forget about me.'</p>
<p>Tom would shout 'You forgot about me!'</p>
<p>His chest brimmed with fire. Smoke trailed up from the book in his hands.</p>
<p>Harry was supposed to be different. Harry was magic. Harry was <em>kind</em>. He always insisted on feeding Tom when they met. Apples, berries and nuts were shoved into Tom's hands despite his protests. Bruises and scrapes healed with a wave of calm magic. He'd give that stupid soft crooked smile when Tom said something that amused him.</p>
<p>Harry was supposed to care.</p>
<p>But Tom had thought it earlier hadn't he? That Harry could be so much worse. Another thought pushed its sinister way forward and Tom could not bear it. The words were too heavy. He would not accept them.</p>
<p>The book fell to ashes in his hands.</p>
<p>Tom surged up. He stalked his way forward and screamed into the woods. "WHERE ARE YOU?"</p>
<p>It echoed all around him, the words distorted and desperate. Tom grit his teeth and waited and waited and waited.</p>
<p>There was no response.</p>
<p>
  <em>What if-</em>
</p>
<p>Nobody answered his call.</p>
<p><em>What if</em>-</p>
<p>Tom shook. His stupid hopeful heart throbbed.</p>
<p>What if Harry had left him there? Abandoned him just like everyone else had. Left him here with nothing but the shattered promises of a life he could have had. Left him standing there fighting back angry tears, fists clenched so hard beads of blood ran down his skin, feeling more hollow than ever before with nothing to hold onto except the grief scratching up his throat and making it hard to breathe.</p>
<p>Left him alone.</p>
<p>It would be the cruelest thing anyone had ever done to him.</p>
<p>Tom waited. The sun set, and night enveloped the sky. Time went on.</p>
<p>Nobody came.</p>
<hr/>
<p>In October, Tom changed his mind.</p>
<p>He didn't want to hurt Harry. He wanted to be able to hurt him. He wanted the power to threaten him. To say '<em>you will never leave me or else'.</em> Harry strayed elusively out of reach. Tom needed some measure of control. If he could not guarantee the devil's loyalty then he'd take fear. A mad plan, worse than no plan. As if something as inhuman as Harry could ever be hurt.</p>
<p>The strange terrible creature who never changed. Some sort of fae that challenged what Tom had learnt of them. He warned Tom against giving out his name (for all the good that had done him), and had given his own freely. What could Tom do with a name? What spell would he be able to cast? What would Harry do with his after?</p>
<p>Tom considered. He would have only one chance to find out. A last resort option. Regardless, Tom needed to find him first.</p>
<p>He abandoned his books in favor of the search. November shrouded the forest in brilliant shades of red and gold.</p>
<p>
  <em>Almost a whole year.</em>
</p>
<p>How much longer?</p>
<p>Tom had grown. His already shoddy clothes no longer covered him properly. His ankles were exposed to the frigid autumn air. His shoes were falling apart as he walked across the frost covered ground. His teeth chattered despite his efforts and a constant chill hung on his bones.</p>
<p>The snow made its return in December and Tom was no closer to finding Harry. He hunted relentlessly. He made mental maps of forest and then found himself wandering around in circles as if the trees had simply decided to move elsewhere. Sometimes Tom would close his eyes and listen to the howling wind. Sometimes it sounded like laughter.</p>
<p>One morning Tom met his reflection in a window. Dark bags sat under his eyes. His fingers tinged blue at the flexed his hand and imagined a blaze, the warmth of the spell leaving his arms tingling. Logically, he knew that he couldn't keep doing this. The necklace hummed underneath his shirt. <em>Thump-Thump-Thump</em> went his stupid heart.</p>
<p>He kept doing it.</p>
<p>Tom stumbled around in the snow. He shouted. He screamed. He did not allow himself to cry. He couldn't feel his toes. His breath came out in harsh heavy puffs. Tom leaned against rough bark and shivered violently. He grimaced. He had become so pathetically weak. He reached for the magic, the cinders inside him and scraped the bottom of the barrel, coming up empty handed and his lungs burned with the cold. Snarling, Tom tried again and received nothing but agony that sent him crashing to his knees.</p>
<p>What would Harry think if he saw him like this?</p>
<p>Would he whisper sweet nothings and gently help Tom to his feet? Would he utter some useless apology and make some excuse? Would he hug him again?</p>
<p>Or would Harry stand in the shadows, draped in the fur of some long extinct beast, and smile? The smile that was always just a bit too sharp and promised crimson trails. Would he beckon Tom closer with a curl of his claws? Would he look at Tom like he would a corpse and ask for just 'one bite' because to do otherwise would be wasteful wouldn't it? Would those unnatural green eyes be the last ones to ever see him again?</p>
<p>He wondered.</p>
<p>Tom coughed. His heart fluttered irregularly. It was a long time before he managed to pick himself up and return to the orphanage. The bed had never looked so inviting. Tom crawled into it and sighed with relief. The moment he pulled the cover up he was out like a light. His sleep was dark and dreamless. The reprieve was short lived.</p>
<p>Tom woke the next morning and immediately sensed something wrong. Sunlight streamed from the window across his room. The door was shut, but not locked. Tom always locked the door. He had locked it hadn't he? He rose from the bed, the pervasive feeling of something missing growing stronger in the silence. Silence? It had never truly been quiet, not since-</p>
<p>Tom let out a howl of unbridled fury.</p>
<p>Someone had stolen <em>his necklace</em>.</p>
<p>Someone was going to suffer.</p>
<hr/>
<p>Billy Stubbs was an average boy.</p>
<p>He did not dream of monsters or explore magical forests. At age thirteen he had still not been adopted and likely never would. His parents might have loved him once, but he'd never know. They'd deposited him in front of Wool's at age three and never looked back. No, there was nothing special about Billy Stubbs. Like most children he could be casually cruel or surprisingly kind. The rabbit had been the most remarkable thing about Billy. A baby bunny he'd found in the brush and painstakingly taken care of ever since.</p>
<p>
  <em>Please, please, let me keep it, Mrs. Cole. It won't be any trouble at all. You won't have to do anything. Let me keep him.</em>
</p>
<p>Somehow he'd managed to convince her and maybe he was a bit forgetful about locking the cage, but the rabbit he'd named Spot never tried to escape. It was content to let Billy run his fingers through its soft fur. The other orphans begged Billy to let them hold it. A million little trades and deals in exchange for a few moments with Spot. The orphanage adored the rabbit with the exception of one boy.</p>
<p>Riddle.</p>
<p>There was nothing average or normal about Tom Riddle. Things had a habit of disappearing around him. Amy still couldn't find her diary and Tom still smiled politely whenever it was brought up. Whenever he was questioned, Riddle put on his most winning smile and charmed his interrogators. Lies fell off his tongue with ease and he always managed to get away with it. That wasn't the problem. Riddle wouldn't be the first kid to have sticky fingers nor the first manipulator. No, there was something wrong with Tom Riddle. A festering malevolence that went soul deep.</p>
<p>Billy had seen it. The dark depths of Riddle's eyes. The way glass shattered when he was angry. Once, a rock floating in the middle of the boy's palm. Riddle was a freak. An unholy demon sent to trick them. And ok, maybe he did scare Billy despite being so much younger. Billy did not do well with fear. He'd much rather be angry. He'd rather find a way to deal with Riddle so that he'd never have to see him again.</p>
<p>Then Riddle stole his rabbit. Then Riddle stood there and mocked him with all his pretty words and wicked smile. Then Riddle burned him and left marks that still lingered to now.</p>
<p>Billy was an average boy. He did not have much of anything to his name. He had a rabbit once and now he had vehement hatred for one Tom Riddle.</p>
<p>Billy watched and waited. His fist crashed into the Riddle's face and then into his body again and again. He wasn't satisfied until Riddle lay broken and bleeding beneath him. Dennis tugged him back with a worried look, but Billy kept his eyes on Riddle.</p>
<p>"You're nothing." Billy said. "Nothing! You hear me?"</p>
<p>Riddle wheezed.</p>
<p>"I told you not to come back! You think you're better than all of us but look at you." Billy shook him. "Huh Riddle? Look at you now!"</p>
<p>Riddle didn't deserve to be special. He had ended up in the orphanage with the rest of them. Abandoned, alone. He didn't deserve whatever freakish powers he had. He deserved to be brought back down to normal. He needed to remember his place and Billy had no problem helping with that.</p>
<p>Riddle groaned then grit his teeth. He glared balefully up at Billy.</p>
<p>He said, "I'll kill you."</p>
<p>He said, "I'll feed you to the devil myself."</p>
<p>He said, "Just like I did your stupid rabbit."</p>
<p>Another punch and Riddle was out like a light and Billy could have finished it right there. Who would even care if he did? The opportunity may never come again. But Billy didn't. He let Dennis drag him away, leaving Riddle lying in the red splattered grass.</p>
<p>Riddle bounced back.</p>
<p>Of course he would, the bastard.</p>
<p>He pranced out of the woods with nary a mark on him. As if he hadn't been pummeled mere hours before. Billy's memories got blurry after that. Riddle must have cast a spell because Billy remembered seeing Riddle's smug face and then nothing. It was maddening.</p>
<p>Dennis refused to go after Riddle again after that, the coward. Billy laid low, kept watching. Everytime he looked at Riddle with the intent to hurt, his thoughts slid sideways until he had no clue what he'd been thinking about in the first place. It took a long time to figure out and Riddle abused it mercilessly.</p>
<p>But Billy learned. He adapted. He kept Riddle in the corner of his vision,out of focus but never out of sight. Quick glances here and there, enough to paint a picture of what he was up to.</p>
<p>Riddle had become obsessed with the forest on the edge of town. Nearly every day he left the orphanage and slipped between the trees. Billy hesitated to follow him. All his life everyone had told stories about the forest. It stole people away and never gave them back. It was never the same twice. Some said there was a monster living there.</p>
<p>Billy ended up finding out how true that was.</p>
<p>One day Riddle walked into the forest and Billy followed quietly after unnoticed. He lost sight of Riddle as soon as he stepped under the dark canopy. It wasn't possible, yet there he was turning each way wildly hoping for a glimpse of the other boy. He forged onward blindly, the uneasiness a sudden physical weight in his stomach.</p>
<p>Billy must have passed the same holly tree three times before it happened. He turned from the tree and found himself very much not alone anymore.</p>
<p>"Who are you?"</p>
<p>Billy dared not answer.</p>
<p>A monster circled around him. No, Riddle had called it the devil hadn't he? The devil with his wicked sharp horns like some sort of ancient forest god.</p>
<p>"Why are you following Tom?" The devil demanded. Billy caught a flash of green before averting his eyes to the ground. The devil stepped closer. "Answer me."</p>
<p>"I-" Bily swallowed. He tried again. "I was-I-"</p>
<p>His knees wobbled. He broke out in a cold sweat. He kept uselessly opening and shutting his mouth, no words courageous enough to leap off his tongue.</p>
<p>Riddle must have known or suspected he'd been tailed. He laid out a web and Billy got trapped. Billy was going to die here in this forest because of Tom Riddle. The devil would send him straight to hell.</p>
<p>Tears rolled down his face. His hands trembled. His heart thudded against his chest like a timer counting down.</p>
<p>"Please-please let me go." He stuttered. "Let me go home."</p>
<p>Billy sank to his knees and bowed his head. "Please." He begged.</p>
<p>The answering silence was deafening. Then there was a hand on his chin, tugging upward. Billy squeezed his eyes as shut as they would go. Claws traced his throat, hovering over his jugular. They vanished just as quickly.</p>
<p>"Leave then." The devil said. "Leave and don't ever come back."</p>
<p>When Billy opened his eyes, it was gone.</p>
<p>He couldn't get out of there fast enough. Billy let out a shaky sigh the instant he saw Godric's Hollow again. He was never stepping foot back in that forest. Let the devil have Riddle. Good riddance.</p>
<p>And perhaps that could have been the end of it, but then Riddle started losing his mind.</p>
<p>It was utterly fascinating to watch as Riddle deteriorated. At first it was barely perceptible, he simply appeared distracted. It grew into snappish remarks and the drop of his charming persona altogether. Come winter, Riddle stared through people rather than at them. He trudged around like a zombie paying no mind to anyone, relentlessly either leaving to go to the forest or sleeping. One day Billy caught sight of the necklace swaying on Riddle's chest and knew that it was something special.</p>
<p>An opportunity he wouldn't let pass by him.</p>
<p>He bided his time. Riddle got worse and worse. It was too easy to sneak into the other boy's room while he slept. The strange necklace lay on Riddle's chest humming.</p>
<p><em>I only want to take it. I won't hurt him.</em> Billy thought at it. Then it was in his hands and Riddle hadn't even woken up.</p>
<p>Time to set his own trap.</p>
<p>So the next morning when Riddle rampaged through the orphanage looking for the thief, Billy met his eyes and smiled wide and ugly. Then he ran out the door with Riddle hot on his heels the whole way.</p>
<hr/>
<p>Tom burned. His lungs heaved with the effort of trying to keep up with Billy. The bigger boy stayed just out of reach, a filthy grin on his face.</p>
<p>Tom had allowed himself to get sloppy. To ignore all the other orphans in search of Harry and now he was paying for it. He was not acting like himself. Tom preferred subtlety. Once he never would have entertained this wild chase. Now the world narrowed down to the necklace swinging from Billy's fingers, the only physical reminder of Harry that existed.</p>
<p>Tom should burn him alive. He should levitate a boulder over his head and let it fall. He should riddle him with a thousand stab wounds just like that stupid rabbit of his. He should do all those things and he burned brighter at the thought of it, but his well of magic still hadn't recovered.</p>
<p>So they ran.</p>
<p>Where else would they go but to the forest that started it all.</p>
<p>Billy crashed into the copse then whirled around on a dime. Tom tumbled forward. Billy's fist connected just under his ribs. All of the air in Tom's lungs vacated in sudden <em>whoosh</em>. His legs trembled, verging on collapse. Tom forced them steady. He seized Billy's arm before the other boy could pull it back.</p>
<p>"That belongs to me." He hissed.</p>
<p>Billy looked amused. In his free hand, he held the necklace higher. "You're a liar and a thief Riddle. Not a damn thing in this whole world belongs to you."</p>
<p>The necklace whirred, the sound growing in intensity, the magic inside twirling restlessly.</p>
<p>Billy laughed, sharp and short. "You stole this from the devil didn't you? You're controlling him with it. That's why he hasn't killed you."</p>
<p>Tom owed him no explanation, yet the words came surging forth anyway. "It was a gift!"</p>
<p>Billy snorted. "Yeah, whatever you say. Why don't you scream for him like you always do? '<em>Harry! Harry save me please!</em>' Go ahead! See what good it does you."</p>
<p>Harry was not coming to save him. That wasn't what Harry did. Harry could care. He could be kind. He could be capricious. Never his savior. No, Tom took care of himself. Always had, always would.</p>
<p>All there was, was Tom, Billy, and all the magic he did not have.</p>
<p>It was enough.</p>
<p>Tom launched himself at the other boy, scrabbling at his arms. Wherever he found purchase, Tom dug in deeper, scratching and tearing. Billy yelped and Tom kneed him in the balls. When the boy bent over in pain, Tom pushed him forward, sending them both crashing to the ground.</p>
<p>"Riddle!"</p>
<p>His hand tangled together in the cord along with Billy's. Tom yanked it upwards to no avail. A second later he saw stars as Billy rained blows against the side of his skull. White static merged with the ever present hum and Billy's insults.</p>
<p>"You crazy freak! You should've just gotten lost when I told you to. Just give it up already!"</p>
<p>Tom lunged. His teeth sank into the soft flesh of Billy's neck.</p>
<p>Billy began to scream. He thrashed to and fro, but Tom could not be deterred. The taste of iron saturated his made him feel deranged. Like something vicious and feral. Unrelenting. Tom bit down harder and Billy choked.</p>
<p>Billy let go of the necklace and managed to push Tom off. He rolled over onto his knees, hand pressed to the gore at his neck, blood seeping from between his fingers.</p>
<p>Tom rose to his feet. Slowly he tugged the necklace back over his head, relishing in the comforting drone. It settled on his chest, right where it belonged.</p>
<p>"What the hell is wrong with you?" Billy gasped. "You're messed up in the head!"</p>
<p>Tom gave him a bloody grin.</p>
<p><em>Maybe I'm like you.</em> Harry had said.</p>
<p><em>No,</em> Tom thought, teeth stained red, the object of his ire at his mercy, <em>I will be so much worse.</em></p>
<p>Names have power. What could he do with a name? Suddenly, he knew.</p>
<p>Tom called up the dregs of his magic, little more than ashes. It burned in his throat. It laced itself in the quiet menace of his words.</p>
<p>"Billy Stubbs." Tom said.</p>
<p>Billy stilled. His eyes went wide. A whimper escaped his lips. His name rendered him immobile, awaiting instruction. Wholly under Tom's control.</p>
<p>"Get lost." Tom commanded. "Wander these woods until you bleed out. Or until I find you again."</p>
<p>The spell took hold. It forced Billy to his feet. The boy shook uncontrollably, taking one ragged breath after another. He staggered past Tom. It was a slow, unsteady departure, not of his own volition. Nevertheless the forest accepted Billy Stubbs, his form disappearing into the shadows.</p>
<p>Tom closed his eyes. His head spun. The backlash of the spell washed over him, leaving a deep hollow ache where his magic should have smoldered. He wouldn't be making it out of the forest this time.</p>
<p>And it was illogical, stupid of him, but Tom did it anyway. No magic left to power it, no energy to say it louder than a whisper.</p>
<p>Still Tom called out for him one last time.</p>
<p>"<em>Harry-"</em></p>
<p>Tom collapsed to the ground and succumbed to darkness, the forest laughing all around him.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks for the kudos, comments, bookmarks, and subs. Really appreciate it all. Happy Holidays!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Even now, I hear you</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Sorry for the late update. Ended up catching covid and that threw a wrench in the plans so to speak. Hopefully I'll be able to return to the monthly updates now.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Once upon a time, Harry was nothing but a boy trying and failing to fall asleep.</p>
<p>He tossed and turned before getting out of bed with a yawn. Harry rubbed at his eyes and came to stand before his window. He stared out into the dark night. Something was out there. He could hear it, a soft rhythmic noise. Almost like a gentle knocking on the door.</p>
<p>Then, so faint he could barely hear it, yet so insistent and inescapable-</p>
<p>"<em>Harry-"</em></p>
<hr/>
<p>The forest did not change. This truth had been hammered into Harry's head over and over. Seasons passed. Life grew and withered away. An unending cycle of rises and falls. No, the forest did not change. Therefore, neither did Harry.</p>
<p>But that hadn't been the case for a while now had it? No, change arrived cloaked in the appearance of an orphan and spread its tendrils with patience. Ever since the day he met Tom, the irregularities began to add up. The boy had forced his way into the forest and Harry's life and nothing would be the same again.</p>
<p>Yet as he knelt over a rotted corpse, Harry knew that assuming Tom was to blame wasn't the truth either.</p>
<p>The body of a doe lay before him missing a chunk of flesh from its belly. The unnatural shape of the cut disturbed him. Near straight lines formed a rectangular wound, on each side organs spilled out, not so much torn as severed. The perpetrator had left misshapen tracks all around the corpse. It dwarfed Harry's own footprints and left a sickening sense of dread. It wasn't anything Harry had ever seen before.</p>
<p>This was beyond Tom.</p>
<p>Harry followed the tracks, noting how the creature seemed to have bounded instead of running. There was no rhyme or reason to its path. It went in circles, looping in on itself, then seemed to tear at the dirt in frustration. The directionless wandering transformed into a blind charge forward, regardless of anything its way. It wrought a trail of destruction that Harry carefully picked through. Trees uprooted, bushes trampled, the carnage continued on and on until the tracks bunched together as if preparing for a great leap-</p>
<p>Then nothing.</p>
<p>Harry entered the clearing before him expecting <em>something. </em>A monster, a clue, some sort of explanation for the ruin behind him but there was <em>nothing </em>at all. The creature had simply vanished into thin air. Harry looked back the way he came and saw the telltale shimmer of magic.</p>
<p>The earth knit itself together. New growth spread over the destruction. Within minutes the forest had righted itself. The sealing of a wound. The erasure of the unexplainable event that made him wonder exactly how many times this had happened before. Was this another inexplicable change or something Harry had managed to miss in all the time he'd been trapped?</p>
<p>"What is this?" He asked the empty air. A beat, then he shouted. "What is this!"</p>
<p>The forest ignored him. The weight of its attention somewhere else for once. Another change. An unexpected opportunity. Harry didn't think. He didn't hesitate. Not even one second later and he was tearing through the woods.</p>
<p>If everything was changing then maybe-</p>
<p>He didn't dare think it. He didn't need to think it. It was a living thing lurking in his brain awakened when the spider left the web unattended. A thing that surged forward at the sight of an open door.</p>
<p><em>Escape,escape,escape, </em>his soul sang.</p>
<p>The forest wanted him to believe it all he had ever known. To believe it was all he could ever want. But that was a lie.</p>
<p>Distant memories pierced through the haze of his mind. Sunlight shimmered off strands of red hair. His own face reflected in a pair of glasses hung on a face eerily similar to his own. Voices in the dark called his name over and over. A life that existed beyond the cage Harry found himself trapped in. These small moments fluttered in and out of reach and as inexorable time went on they may be lost to him forever. To one day forget that there was more than this.</p>
<p>So Harry ran on, the pounding of his feet against the ground a mocking imitation of the heartbeat he did not have.</p>
<p>All around him the trees began to shake and shift.</p>
<p><em>Harry, </em>the forest whispered darkly.</p>
<p>It shuffled the landscape in front of him in a ploy to confuse him. It had worked before. Harry couldn't remember how many times he'd wandered uselessly as his surroundings became a maze without end. But it wouldn't work this time.</p>
<p>Harry closed his eyes and focussed on the hum of everpresent magic. It coursed through everything. A churning sea that brimmed with potential. It trickled through his body without permission and that was enough for the small spells he cast, to change shape even. The insignificant things that fascinated Tom to no end. But Harry needed much more than that now.</p>
<p>Harry threw open the door in himself and the magic surged forward. It crackled through his veins, alighting all in its path with crackling fervor. He shook as it crashed into him with ferocity. He stumbled to his hands and knees underneath the weight of it. It was pure light searing into him. It was electrifying. It was so, so alive.</p>
<p>Only by engulfing himself in it could he really see it for what it was. How it poured out into ley lines traversing the entire forest. Rivers of energy flowed and intersected forming an intricate web. A map that didn't change even as the forest transformed. Harry could use it, follow them to the weakest point and break through-</p>
<p>However the lines did not lead to an exit. No, they crossed and all began to converge, all leading to the center- all leading to-</p>
<p>Harry.</p>
<p>Magic swallowed him whole. It undulated under his skin, swelling in intensity. It poured itself into him ruthlessly. His body glowed with unholy light. Harry began to scream. It was too much. It was all too much. Everything that he was threatened to crack open under the pressure.</p>
<p><em>Never let you go, </em>the forest crooned.</p>
<p>How could it? When the two of them were entwined so deeply. When Harry seemed to lie at the nexus of its strength. When it tried to twist him into a conduit suitable for its own purposes, leaving him as a cursed thing stuck betwixt. The clear cut lines between him and the forest blurred- verged on erasure.</p>
<p>Where did one begin and the other end? Did it matter? What were a few memories against eons of existence?</p>
<p>The forest had burrowed its way inside him. Even if Harry escaped parts of it would still remain nestled against his bones, corrupting him. Rotting him away.</p>
<p><em>Give in,</em> the forest ordered. <em>Give up control.</em></p>
<p>"No," Harry said, the word so quiet it was a wonder that he'd made any sound at all. The constant thrum drowned it and drowned him along with it.</p>
<p><em>Yes,</em> the forest said.</p>
<p><em>Yes</em>, the birds sang.</p>
<p><em>Yes</em>, the wolves howled.</p>
<p><em>Yes</em>, the trees murmured.</p>
<p><em>Yes</em>, the world demanded.</p>
<p>"Harry!"</p>
<p>The shout pierced through the hum. It reverberated loud and clear accompanied by the telltale <em>thump, thump, thump </em>and it sounded like hope.</p>
<p>"Harry!" It was Tom and it wasn't. Tom wasn't there. Hadn't been there for a long time. Still his words traversed all the boundaries between the two of them through sheer force of will. A small miracle that saved Harry for which no amount of gratitude would be enough. Over and over, Tom called his name, each repetition a bit different from the rest. He grew louder, angrier, more desperate.</p>
<p>"WHERE ARE YOU?"</p>
<p>Every syllable cut through the magic that held Harry in its thrall. Something cold and dark rose in him and the foreign magic shivered away from it. Suddenly, he could breathe again. How strange for his name to give him strength when before it had only ever been a weakness. How giddy it made him, euphoria burning up his throat, a laugh barely contained.</p>
<p>What were eons of existence to a couple of stubborn boys?</p>
<p>"Come back to me!" Tom demanded.</p>
<p>Harry couldn't help but smile. "I'll see you soon. Just hold on for a little while longer."</p>
<p>He dug his fingers into the earth. The energy thrummed under his skin like an itch. With this much power, Harry could do anything. <em>You can have everything,</em> the forest promised. <em>You only have to reach out and take it.</em></p>
<p>"Everything." Harry repeated. "I don't want everything."</p>
<p>He took every bit of magic that clung to him and ripped it out. Tom's voice faded away, the spell ending, but it was enough. Not everything, but enough. Harry forced the magic to flow back into the ground, rippling out in a pulse. It illuminated the ley lines and revealed the web's design. Harry searched for weaknesses, but what he found was an absence. A small bubble of nothingness in the midst of it all.</p>
<p><em>Don't, </em>the forest said, but Harry was already on his feet racing forward.</p>
<p>It could have stopped him. In fact, it should have stopped him. No barrier stood between him and his goal at all. There did not need to be.</p>
<p>When he arrived the hole in the web was gone. The strange sense of absence slipped through his fingers like all else he had ever known. Another message lay before him carved out in yet another tree.</p>
<p>
  <em>Where are you Harry?</em>
</p>
<p>Harry sucked in a breath.</p>
<p>Lord Voldemort knew his name.</p>
<p>"What is this?" he asked.</p>
<p>The forest said, <em>what you asked for.</em></p>
<hr/>
<p>Tom drifted between dreams and darkness.</p>
<p>
  <em>Flurries of white dusted his body with a terrible gentleness. A slow and merciless process that would bury him alive.</em>
</p>
<p>He dreamt of being chased, he dreamt of chasing. The wolves were at his heels. He was the wolf. The prey eluded him, time and again, until the moment his fingers brushed against shadow, and it tugged him closer, opening its tenebrous maw-</p>
<p>
  <em>Teeth closed around his ankle and dragged. Greyback pulled him along with little effort. In between blinks, he saw a monster. No, a rabbit. No, a boy. No, there was nothing there at all.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>The wolf left him behind.</em>
</p>
<p>He dreamt of the ocean. He skipped stones across the surface. The ripples expanded before he threw the stone. No, the stone has already hit rock bottom. No, the sky held the stone aloft. No, the stone inside him was still sinking. No, the stone was there bouncing across the water, shattering it like glass filled with eyes that burned like coal that promised to wreath the world in an inferno. Hungry eyes, crimson eyes like blood-</p>
<p>
  <em>Familiar eyes and familiar uncompromising words echoed. "You do not die here." He told himself. "We do not die here."</em>
</p>
<p>He dreamt of coffins and the orphans who called them home. He dreamt of bodies and bombs bursting in the air. He dreamt of his mother, whoever she may have been, and of death leading her away.</p>
<p>
  <em>Death loomed above him and he could not get away. He crawled, inch by pathetic inch. No magic left to save him. No fire ran in his veins. Nothing remained but the horror of the shade.</em>
</p>
<p>He dreamt of a boy who became a bird who became a stag who became something without a name who perhaps had never really been a boy to begin with.</p>
<p>
  <em>Hands met his and tugged upwards.</em>
</p>
<p>"<em>There you are." Harry said.</em></p>
<p>
  <em>Here he was. He had finally come. Harry, but not the one he left behind. A Harry he could never have imagined because Harry was not supposed to change. But he had.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Older and taller with hands covered in dried blood. More red coated his right side centered around the arrow that impaled him. His bare chest was a collage of scars, mottled bruises and other marks of survival. Despite that, Harry looked down at him and smiled and Tom would recognize that anywhere.</em>
</p>
<p>"<em>I didn't think I was going to see you again." the devil murmured. "Can you walk?"</em></p>
<p>
  <em>Tom could only stare at him, afraid that any words would wake him. Any wrong movement could prove this moment to be a desperate delusion dreamt by a dying boy. He dared not hope. He simply fell forward and let his body fall limp into Harry's hands.</em>
</p>
<p>"<em>I've got you. Ok? Here, lean onto me. Shit! Be careful."</em></p>
<p>
  <em>Several maneuvers later and they were propped up against each other. Harry led them slowly and Tom forced his feet to comply. They walked on through the woods no longer draped in soft sheets of snow. Something had scorched the land and left only ash behind. Blackened trees reached for the sky like grasping claws. Harry's face was smudged with soot, his hair dusted with gray. Some steps had him wincing in pain, a low hiss escaping his lips. Some steps had Tom on the verge of passing out, a horrible hollow ache taking root in him and expanding.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Harry talked, fast and feverishly, barely pausing for breath.</em>
</p>
<p>"<em>We have to go. They're still chasing me. I'll get you to safety and then I'll go. It's me they want. It's always me.</em></p>
<p>"<em>You shouldn't be here. Look at you. You almost died. If that happened...but you were looking for me weren't you? I heard you. I always hear you.</em></p>
<p>"<em>I can't run. I can't hide. Maybe it's time to finally just...stop."</em></p>
<p>
  <em>Pressed up against his side, Tom heard no heartbeat but a reply like shifting leaves.</em>
</p>
<p>No, <em>it said.</em></p>
<p>"<em>It doesn't matter. It never did. The only thing that does is you." Harry squeezed Tom's shoulder. "I'll get you out of here. I promise you that. Do not come back for me."</em></p>
<p>
  <em>Tom said, "No."</em>
</p>
<p>"<em>Tom-" Harry stopped, his face contorted with agony. He pressed a hand to his side and groaned.</em></p>
<p>
  <em>Off in the distance a roar echoed.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Harry grit his teeth and began moving again. Tom watched tears track down the devil's face and how odd a sight it was. Even now that he was bloody, broken and limping away from an unknown danger, Harry was still beautiful. He looked almost human.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Harry deserved this, Tom thought viciously. For all the time he'd spent waiting. For all the pain he'd suffered in his absence. Harry should hurt. But it should've been Tom who did it to him. No one else. Who dared to touch what was his...</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Because Harry was his. His secret. His devil. His monster made of miracles and two of them were unlike anyone else in all the world.</em>
</p>
<p>"<em>Here." Harry gestured to the elder tree they had arrived at. It had escaped the fate its brethren suffered, its green limbs welcoming them. At its base was a hole, which Harry dragged Tom into. Harry leaned him against the dirt wall and Tom slid down until he sat on the ground exhausted.</em></p>
<p>
  <em>There was nothing except the sound of them breathing. Nothing but the steady dark gaze into green in the dim half light.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Tom knew Harry. Knew him better than anyone else. He dealt with his unpredictable moods and knew the signs of the oncoming storm. The furrowing of his brows, the way his hands twitched as if he didn't know what to do with them, and the closing of his eyes like he couldn't bear to look at anything at all. Here it was. Here it all was.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Emotions warred across the devil's face. Despair and determination clashed. Out loud he said, "Tom." Then stopped. Harry swallowed.</em>
</p>
<p>"<em>Tom. I-" His voice broke. Tom waited. The seconds rattled on.</em></p>
<p>
  <em>Harry said, "I'm sorry. I never should have done it. Forgive me. This is the last time."</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>He made to leave and Tom grabbed his hand before he could. His grip was merciless.</em>
</p>
<p>"<em>Don't leave me." Tom said.</em></p>
<p>
  <em>Harry looked at him, green eyes wide, and his expression settled, grim determination winning out. He bent down and kissed Tom on the forehead in a gesture so terribly tender that Tom shuddered.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Harry told him, very softly. "I already have."</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>When he tried to pull away, Tom let him. His fingers fell away and watched as Harry left him behind. The devil did not look back.</em>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>Perhaps, there were three Harrys. Harry the boy, Harry the devil, and Harry the hunted. Past, present and future. All of them haunted. All of them searching for something that eluded them.</p>
<p>Or perhaps there were three tragedies unfurling in different spots across time observed only by a malevolent forest and a ruthless boy.</p>
<p>In truth, there was only one Harry and hopefully for his sake, one way out.</p>
<hr/>
<p>In the forest, at the top of a mountain sat a stone bridge. A small river ran underneath and cascaded downward. Harry leaned against the bridge and watched the water flow. The spot had a sense of tranquility to it. Once he had stood there for days simply soaking it in. It was tempting to repeat that, but Harry needed answers.</p>
<p>He sighed and stretched, twisting his neck one way and then the other with a satisfying crack. Then he placed his hands on the cool stone. It thrummed under his palms, eager to please.</p>
<p>The bridge had been there longer than Harry had been. There were no clues as to who built it or why, only ancient magic lingering in the rock. The thing that made the bridge special was its affinity for secrets. The wind gathered words and conversations and carried them here, where the bridge hoarded them with as much glee as an inanimate object was capable of having. Sometimes, if Harry was patient enough, it would share them with him. The bridge, like the forest, held a strange fondness of him.</p>
<p>The wind kicked up, a snippet of a song played, words echoing around him.</p>
<p>"<em>Darling you've got to let me know, should I stay or should I go?"</em></p>
<p>A strange gift, but Harry appreciated it nonetheless. He whistled the beat, and the stone beneath his hands warmed in response.</p>
<p>"Four of my secrets for four of yours." Harry offered. The stone hummed in agreement.</p>
<p>Harry didn't have any secrets, only things he never said aloud. Was a thing nobody had ever heard still a secret if no one was around to care? And if not, why did Harry dread it so? Somehow keeping the thoughts trapped inside him made them easier to dismiss. Less real. He started simple.</p>
<p>"The forest is changing. Greyback is hunting something. I've seen the tracks. I don't know what it is."</p>
<p>A monster that had crawled out from the dark corners of the woods. Fair enough. There were stranger things in the world than Harry after all. Alone, it didn't mean anything. Harry would handle it if it came after him. But he wasn't worried about himself.</p>
<p>His grip on the stone tightened. "It's been eight hundred fourty five days since I've seen Tom."</p>
<p>It would be one thing if Tom never returned to the forest. A good thing even. It would be another thing if the next time they met it was Harry stumbling across his corpse.</p>
<p>Harry knew the boy well enough to know that he would always come back. Tom had a hunger for all the things the forest provided. <em>Everything</em>, he always demanded, hands reaching out to grasp it all and Harry would dole it out to him piece by piece if it meant a brief moment of solace in the eternity that lay before him.</p>
<p>What was once reassuring, now had him thinking that they would have been better off if they had never met at all. How after their chance encounter, the forest had begun to change. Orphans, monsters and a mysterious lord roamed the woods now. A lord who could hold his name over him like guillotine and yet-</p>
<p>"I want him to find me." Harry said.</p>
<p>Lord Voldemort knew who he was, maybe even knew how Harry had come to be here. Whether or not he could be trusted Harry could decide when they met face to face.</p>
<p>One more secret left. Harry paused. He tilted his head back to gaze at the deep blue sky. In many of his daydreams Harry imagined flying away from this place. He would find his way home where someone would be waiting for him as if no time had passed at all, welcoming him home and telling him dinner was still warm. But as time passed the daydreams did not become more grandiose, no, they shrank in on themselves. Soon it was Harry arriving home only to discover that no one was there. Or to find someone there who no longer remembered or recognized him. Then it was Harry flying away and never looking back and never landing, too scared of what he might find.</p>
<p>Lately he hadn't imagined flying away at all. Harry had become quite at settling even in his own musings. In his deepest fantasy he wasn't alone, and that was enough. There didn't need to be words, a hand against his would be enough. Conversation might be too much even. Understanding unfathomable. He dreamt of the simple press of fingertips against his skin like a balm for all wounds, and knew he would never be lucky enough to receive it</p>
<p>But then he did and so much more.</p>
<p>"All of this. These things, they're not happening to me. They're happening because of me." He admitted.</p>
<p>Not turning away from Tom that first day in the forest had been his choice. The beginning of something neither of them understood. Strange events and oddities piled up and forced Harry to take action. He reached up to touch the pointed tips of his ears which had been round before his reckless stunt earlier. A warning that he could still lose so much. Tom calling his name a reminder of all he stood to gain.</p>
<p>Harry had given up before, determined to fade away instead of giving himself over to the forest. Each day smothered in a desolate fog that he no longer had the strength to fight. The forest had asked him over and over what he wanted and every time Harry had the same answer. Until the last time.</p>
<p>Harry had always wanted to live, but until Tom he hadn't felt alive.</p>
<p>It wasn't luck.</p>
<p>The bridge thrummed, esoteric runes on the stone glowed softly. <em>What secrets do you seek?</em></p>
<p>"Is there anyone else still looking for me, do they remember who I am?"</p>
<p>Silence. Harry swallowed, doing his best to ignore the sudden tightness of his throat. He deserved this. It was stupid to hope, he knew better. There were more important things to ask-</p>
<p>"<em>What do you want, Potter?" </em>asked a girl, her voice carried by the wind from elsewhere.</p>
<p>"<em>No need to be so mean. Can't I drop by just to talk?"</em></p>
<p>"<em>No."</em></p>
<p>"<em>Well I'm going to anyway. You shouldn't be here."</em></p>
<p>"<em>It's none of your business where I should or shouldn't be. Where's the rest of your friends? Off bullying someone else?"</em></p>
<p>"<em>It wasn't like that."</em></p>
<p>"<em>What was it like?"</em></p>
<p>"<em>You have to admit what you said doesn't make much sense. How can you blame them for teasing you?"</em></p>
<p>"<em>You mean laughing at me. Is that why you're here now? Go ahead. Laugh. Then leave me alone."</em></p>
<p>A beat.</p>
<p>"<em>I'm glad that you're back. I'm sorry for the others- I'm sorry I laughed too."</em></p>
<p>A sigh<em>. "What do you want, Potter?"</em></p>
<p>"<em>Do you really believe it? What you said?"</em></p>
<p>"<em>Yes. I saw them. The strange boy who lives in the forest and the monster that's chasing him. Are you going to call me crazy now?"</em></p>
<p>"<em>No."</em></p>
<p>"<em>Then what?"</em></p>
<p>"<em>I believe you."</em></p>
<p>A surprised laugh rang out and then faded away. The voices were so familiar it made him ache. He didn't know them, but they remembered him. Even now, after all this time, Harry was not forgotten. Hope dredged itself up from the corner of his mind Harry had shoved it in. <em>Maybe</em>, he thought, <em>maybe one day we will meet again.</em></p>
<p>But probably not. He took in a breath and blew it out long and slow. It did little to soothe the hunger the voices had sparked. He had to focus.</p>
<p>Harry asked, "Who is Lord Voldemort?"</p>
<p>A chorus of voices, all of them children, whispered. "<em>Riddle, riddle, riddle</em>."</p>
<p>Harry rolled his eyes. "I know it's a riddle. How is that supposed to be helpful?"</p>
<p>No other answer was forthcoming and the voices died down.</p>
<p>"Alright. What does Voldemort want?" he asked.</p>
<p>This time the wind keened. Then he was seized by a sudden chill. It settled around his neck like a heavy hand and Harry could swore he felt it tighten its grip, five unmistakable points of pressure. In his ear the wind whispered low and darkly, "<em>You belong to me</em>."</p>
<p>Harry whirled around.</p>
<p>Nothing. He stood alone on the bridge. Connected to the forest as he was, it should have been impossible to sneak up on him and yet...</p>
<p>Harry rubbed the back of his neck, all too aware of the bruises that lay there now.</p>
<p>One question left. Too many things left to ask. Too many things he'd asked before. How could he escape? Where was Tom? What was the monster? How could he find the monster? How could he find Lord Voldemort?</p>
<p>How did it all end?</p>
<p>Harry didn't ask. He peeled himself away from the stone and began his descent back down the mountain. He stopped only to leave his response to Voldemort scrawled into bark like all the others.</p>
<p><em>You belong to me</em> and <em>never let you go.</em></p>
<p>Harry grit his teeth.</p>
<p>Voldemort and the forest weren't the same, but they might as well be.</p>
<p>When Harry arrived in the tree hollow he called home, he expected a few things. Namely sleep. Not Tom laid out on the ground, mouth covered in blood, his nose making a whistling noise that came with being broken. Harry was at his side in an instant. He hesitated, hands hovering over the boy's face.</p>
<p>It was so much worse than the first time.</p>
<p>Tom slept on, unaware. Who had done it this time? That boy Billy? The monster? Voldemort? The forest?</p>
<p>It was Harry's fault. He'd said it earlier hadn't he? Everything was happening because of him. Because he had chosen not to walk away. Because he wanted it too much.</p>
<p>It wasn't luck that dropped a boy on his doorstep.</p>
<p>Now, Tom suffered.</p>
<p>Harry began to heal the most serious injuries, quietly hating himself as he did. He shouldn't be touching Tom at all. He shouldn't have hugged him before. He needed to get away. He felt nauseous.</p>
<p>A hand reached up to grab his.</p>
<p>"You came back." Tom mumbled.</p>
<p>"What do you mean?"</p>
<p>"You left. You always leave." Tom's eyes fluttered open, distant and unfocused. Harry tugged his hand away and Tom let his own fall. The boy shifted, fingers trailing across his forehead, eyebrows scrunched together.</p>
<p>"You- why?" he muttered, voice still thick with sleep.</p>
<p>"Tom," Harry said. "How did you get here?"</p>
<p>Tom had already closed his eyes, mumbling more nonsense under his breath. Eventually his breathing evened out, and he fell back asleep.</p>
<p>Harry watched him. The rise and fall of his chest. The shifting of the incessant curl of his hair. The way he curled in on himself away from Harry.</p>
<p><em>Don't</em>.</p>
<p>"I don't want you to go." Harry told him, "Maybe it's better if this is the last time."</p>
<p>It would've ended one day anyway. Harry had known that right from the start.</p>
<p>He let himself imagine otherwise. A future where Harry finally escaped the forest's clutches, Tom right behind him. The pair of them laughing, bickering as always. Together they could find the owners of the voices he'd heard earlier, or maybe they wouldn't. It didn't matter. Together, they could do anything. A bright future.</p>
<p>It weighed him down, the enormity of how much he wanted it.</p>
<p>Harry settled for a last look back before walking away.</p>
<hr/>
<p>Tom woke to an unfamiliar ceiling. He blinked slowly. He tried to get up but his leaden limbs ignored him. He cast a gaze at his surroundings.</p>
<p>A wisp hovered above him, illuminating the walls with a dim glow. The walls themselves were nothing but dirt. Roots poked out in places. A large one resided in the middle of the room, grown crooked enough to form a perch for the white owl who glared at him imperiously. To his left, someone had dug out a shelf and filled it with little treasures. Instinct had his fingers itching to snatch them up and tuck them into his pockets. When he thought about it-</p>
<p>Tom groaned and rubbed at his temples. His thoughts were sluggish. They got stuck in the amber that was the lovely warmth enveloping him and a tiredness that went bone deep. He lay huddled in furs (hadn't he seen this one before?) and waited for his brain to start working.</p>
<p>Distantly, a sound drifted down into the den. Someone was singing. Tom grimaced. Someone was singing <em>terribly</em>.</p>
<p>"<em>Darling, you've got to let me know,</em>" They sang. "<em>Should I stay or should I go</em>?"</p>
<p>They hummed to a nonexistent beat, all the words off key and the gears inside Tom's head began to turn. He threw off the furs, the comforting warmth now sweltering and stumbled to his feet. Each movement elicited its own small agony. The smart thing to do would be to lay back down and rest.</p>
<p>"<em>If I go, there will be trouble and if I stay it will be double."</em></p>
<p>But Tom knew that voice. The sound sped through his synapses, electrified connections ,and banished away the fog that hung heavy over him. It set his stupid heart aflame and dragged him up and out of the hole in the ground and into the light.</p>
<p>At first, Tom was certain that he must still be dreaming.</p>
<p>Green. Green permeated his vision. It covered the ground in front of him and hung from the canopy above. <em>The wrong green. </em>Green like growth, green like the middle of summer and sure enough, Tom felt its oppressive heat bear down on his shoulders. It was impossible. The bite of winter still lingered in his bones. Unease twisted in his gut.</p>
<p>Time went on and on and on.</p>
<p>A low whistle pierced the air. Talons whizzed past his head, a white blur flying past him. The owl landed neatly on a branch above Tom and hooted at him reproachfully. Tom glared up at it and it glared right back. He lifted his gaze higher.</p>
<p>The devil sat on another branch with his back against the tree, arms crossed. It was him. It was really him, after all this time. His Harry. Just the sight of him sent Tom's stupid heart haywire, his chest filling up with fizzy rumbling light. Happiness rolled up against anger, crashed against despair and exploded inside him summed up in one single word: <em>finally.</em></p>
<p>There was no arrow in his side. No remnants of ash coating him. Just the Harry he'd always known, the same as he'd ever been.</p>
<p>"I've been looking for you." Tom said.</p>
<p>The devil turned his head and Tom was met with the correct green. "I know."</p>
<p>"Where have you been?"</p>
<p>Harry smiled, sharp and mean. "Here. I'm always here."</p>
<p>He made no move to leave his perch and with each passing second the distance between them became more unbearable.</p>
<p><em>I lost count of how many times your name fell from my tongue. </em>Tom didn't say.</p>
<p><em>I said it so many times that I'm sick of it. </em>He didn't say.</p>
<p>"I called for you." Tom tried. "You never came."</p>
<p>"I know." Harry replied, insufferable as usual. "I heard you."</p>
<p>"You always do." Tom shot back, recalling the strange dream Harry. The devil recoiled at the accusation. He shook his head.</p>
<p>Harry said. "Tom."</p>
<p>Tom said. "Come here."</p>
<p>The devil frowned down at him and stayed right where he was.</p>
<p>"Are you scared?" Tom smiled at him. <em>Do you see the blood on my teeth?</em> <em>Come here.</em></p>
<p>Harry huffed. "Of you? Never."</p>
<p>He slid off the branch, the motion too smooth and lithe to be natural. Harry approached him with a deliberate slowness, careful to leave absolutely too much space between them.</p>
<p>Harry was on edge. His body radiated tension. One wrong move and he would bolt and Tom was in no condition to chase him.</p>
<p>
  <em>I don't need to chase you. I have your name.</em>
</p>
<p>"Stay." At Harry's confused expression, Tom explained. "Should you stay or should you go. Stay."</p>
<p>Harry looked at the ground. "You don't know what you're asking for."</p>
<p>Tom mimicked his slow approach, one tentative step after another. They stood toe to toe and Harry still wouldn't look at him. Tom took one more step, and threw his arms around the devil.</p>
<p>
  <em>Finally.</em>
</p>
<p>Tom tucked his head under Harry's chin, too short for anything else. Fire licked up his insides, burning its way down his veins, chasing away the cold that clung to him even now. Tom never wanted to let go. And it was a weakness, this fondness he had for Harry. Every single touch ruined him, left him yearning for another. Tom wanted more, he wanted everything.</p>
<p>"Harry." Tom said. "Stay."</p>
<p>The devil tilted his head and Tom was met with the correct green. Vibrant and unnerving, brighter than he'd ever seen them. Harry tugged him closer, returning the embrace.</p>
<p>"I'll stay. If that's what you want."</p>
<p>And Tom almost laughed at him.</p>
<p>How could he want anything else?</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks for kudos, bookmarks, and comments! Next chapter Tom gets answers (to questions he didn't ask).</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This was supposed to be a one shot, but here we are.</p>
<p>Unfortunately for Harry, this is chronological from Tom's POV.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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